Affectionate Anecdotes
by crochetaway
Summary: A collection of one-shots from various Harry Potter competitions mainly from different FB groups. This will include any and all pairings and for safety will be rated M. This will probably be a never-ending collection.
1. Mistress of Malfoy Manor

**A/N: Written for the Slytherin Cabal FB group's Death by Quill competition in 2018. This is round 1 which was Obliviate (Memory) and my pairing was Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black. Many thanks to my beta, ElleMartin, for her attention to detail and help with the title! Thank you!**

 **Summary: Who is the true Mistress of Malfoy Manor? And what will each witch do in order to come out on top?**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Warnings: Forceful obliviations.**

* * *

 _Mistress of Malfoy Manor_

* * *

" _Obliviate_!" Hermione hissed, her wand pointed at the back of Narcissa Malfoy's head. She implanted the false memories necessary then moved around the small cafe table Narcissa sat at taking her tea.

"Miss Granger?" Narcissa asked dazedly.

"Narcissa, I've told you, call me Hermione," Hermione smiled. "You had a bit of a fainting spell when we were out shopping. I brought you here for some tea."

"Oh, yes, thank you," Narcissa nodded absentmindedly.

Seeing Narcissa's frown, Hermione began chattering away at her about all the stores they had been to. Hermione had come prepared with several shopping bags, emblazoned with some of the highest end stores in the district. Narcissa was the easiest person in the Malfoy family for Hermione to Obliviate, because she was the weakest, mentally and magically. Hermione had seen that when Narcissa had turned away from the torture Hermione had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix.

When Hermione had concocted this plan, she was originally only going to Obliviate Draco, but she realized, to truly get what she wanted, all three of the Malfoys were going to need to be Obliviated. And so she had begun focusing on which Malfoy would be her 'in' to the family and Narcissa had clearly won out.

Narcissa would go home today and speak of her delightful conversation with Miss Granger and Draco would come to see her on Monday at work, asking her what she thought she was doing. She could almost hear the sneer in his voice now. She smiled, everything was going according to plan.

* * *

"Are you alright, Mother?" Draco asked Narcissa as he entered the dining room behind her.

"Yes, just a small headache," Narcissa replied, removing her hand from her temple.

"I can get you a headache relief," Draco offered.

"Thanks, my dear," Narcissa patted his arm as he summoned the potion and handed it to her. "You work with Miss Granger, don't you?"

"I do, why do you ask?" Draco sat at the table after pulling out her chair. She smiled to herself at his proper manners. She'd worked long and hard to instill those in him and was grateful to see he was using them.

"We had a pleasant chat this afternoon, even did a little shopping together before taking tea at a cafe."

"Shopping? With Granger?" Draco sounded incredulous.

"She seems lovely," Narcissa shrugged lightly. She did want to see her son settled and happy, but wasn't going to push him. That didn't mean that she couldn't plant some seeds occasionally though.

Draco just lifted his eyebrow as if to repeat 'Granger' again in that incredulous tone of his. Narcissa pursed her lips, and changed the subject., "Who have you decided to escort to the gala, Draco?"

* * *

"What do you think you are doing, Granger?" Draco asked Hermione the Monday after her run-in with Narcissa in Diagon Alley.

"Parchmentwork," Hermione mumbled as she crossed through a sentence and began rewriting it.

"No, I mean with my mother," Draco said slapping his hand on her desk making her look up.

"I'm not doing anything with your mother, Malfoy. I'm working," Hermione said slowly and indicated that she was the only person in the office.

"Stop being dense. I know you did something to her." Draco narrowed his eyes at her and it took every ounce of Slytherin that Hermione possessed not to smirk at him. Draco was number two on her list, but not quite yet. She needed to soften Narcissa up a tad more. She feigned a confused frown.

"Really, Malfoy. I didn't do anything to your mother. We ran into each other in Diagon Alley, got to chatting, did a little shopping, and had tea. It was all perfectly innocent, I assure you."

"Since when do you have tea with the likes of _my_ mother?" Draco accused.

"'The _likes_ of your mother'? What exactly are you saying? That your mother is too good to have tea with the Muggleborn? Careful how you answer, Malfoy. We're at work, I'd hate to have you fired for blood-supremacist statements."

Draco's lips tightened in anger, and his fists clenched at his sides. "Stay away from her," he hissed before storming out of her office door.

Hermione sat back in her chair, finally letting the satisfied smirk roam free on her face as she watched him stalk away from her office.

* * *

"Miss Granger, so good to see you again," Narcissa greeted. She was happy to run into Miss Granger once more.

"Narcissa, I've told you to call me Hermione," Hermione smiled and opened her arms. They gave each other a light hug and kissed the air near each other's cheeks. Narcissa was impressed that Hermione knew the proper way to greet a pure-blood witch.

"Hermione it is then," Narcissa grinned. "What brings you to Twilfit and Tattings?"

"Shopping, of course," Hermione responded. "For work robes, actually."

"Lovely! I'm here to get robes for the Malfoy Spring Gala. We're benefitting the Children Left Behind charity this year," Narcissa said. An idea struck. "You should come! We can pick out a new robe for you today!"

"Oh, I couldn't," Hermione demurred. "I'm sure you've already sent out all of your invitations. I wouldn't want to mess up your count."

"Nonsense, what's one more? Besides, it's still two weeks away. Plenty of time to adjust. Will you bring someone with you or...?" Narcissa gave her a rather significant look and Hermione blushed lightly. Narcissa felt a smirk creep onto her face; Hermione really would be perfect for her son.

"I'm not dating anyone currently," Hermione looked down at her hands, looking bashful.

"Even better! Come, let's shop!"

* * *

Hermione thought for sure that she would have to bribe her way into the Malfoy Spring Gala. It was essential that she attended for her plan to work, and she almost couldn't believe it when Narcissa had invited her. That one Obliviation was doing more work for her than Hermione had originally planned. Now onto the next step.

She glided her way through the expansive Malfoy ballroom, smiling and nodding to all of her co-workers. Narcissa had assured her that Draco would be attending date-less, per Narcissa's strict instructions. Hermione was careful to avoid Lucius. He was the last on her list and probably the hardest of the three of them. His Occlumency shields were almost as famous as Snape's, but with both Narcissa and Draco speaking nice things about her to Lucius, she was sure he too would let his guard down enough for her to Obliviate him.

"Granger," Draco growled in her ear, appearing suddenly behind her, and gripping her arm tightly above her elbow. "Let's go for a walk," he said, pushing her toward the balcony doors.

"Of course, Malfoy," Hermione said calmly. She fingered the wand she had strapped to her wrist as he pushed her out the double doors, locking them both out onto the balcony. He shoved her forward, releasing her arm. Hermione stumbled, but caught herself and walked to the banister.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed from behind her. Hermione was taking in the nighttime view of Malfoy property. Soon, it would all be hers to do with what she wanted. She couldn't wait.

"I'm sure I do not know what you are talking about, Malfoy," Hermione replied, still not facing him.

"Dammit Granger!" Draco gripped her arm again, spinning her around. He looked angry, his nostrils flared and his face was pinched.

Hermione lifted her eyebrow, retaining her calm demeanor, even as her heart raced inside.

"What did you do to my mother?" Draco accused.

Hermione reached up her free arm and patted Draco's cheek, "Oh, Malfoy. I didn't do anything to your mother. Well, nothing more than I'm going to do to you," she grinned and he released her wand arm, taking a step back from her. His eyes had widened in understanding and maybe a hint of fear, but Hermione was quick. A flick of her wrist and she had her wand in her hand and pointed between Draco's eyes, " _Obliviate_."

Immediately, Draco's expression grew soft and dazed. Hermione implanted a few false memories and then smiled brightly at Draco.

"Granger?" his voice was confused and he shook his head. "My head is pounding."

"It's Hermione," Hermione smiled. "Remember? Luckily, I always keep some headache relief potion on me, Draco. Then we can dance." Hermione pulled the small vial of potion from the handbag at her wrist.

"Dance?"

"Of course, that's why you asked me out here. Don't you remember? You wanted to apologize for the nastiness of our youth and you asked me to dance with you?"

"Yes, of course," Draco nodded and downed the potion. "Let's dance." He grinned and held his arm out.

Hermione's answering grin was the most genuine one she'd worn all night.

* * *

Narcissa smiled happily as she watched Draco twirl Hermione around the dance floor. It had been an inspired move to invite her to the gala.

"What is our son doing?" Lucius asked coldly. She glanced over her shoulder to see that his eyes too were riveted on the laughing couple.

"Dancing. Don't they look lovely together?" Narcissa sighed.

"With a Mudblood?" Lucius growled.

"Oh, stop it, Lucius. The world has moved on. If she makes Draco happy, then that's all that matters. Let's dance," Narcissa grabbed her husband's hand and pulled him after her.

Narcissa was pleased her attempts at matchmaking between Hermione and Draco seemed to be working. At first, she wasn't sure that Hermione would be amenable to them, but judging by the incandescent look on her face at the moment, she was very, very amenable to Draco.

* * *

Six months after the successful Obliviation of Draco and Narcissa, Hermione finally got her chance to Obliviate Lucius. She'd had dinner with the Malfoys, as she'd been doing every week since the gala. Narcissa had called Draco away to help her with some task post-dinner and Lucius was left alone with Hermione for the first time. He viewed her with narrow, suspicious eyes, but Hermione had lots of practice now.

"What could my wife and son possibly see in you, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked in his haughtiest tone. He was seated on a settee in the parlor 'entertaining' Hermione while Narcissa and Draco did whatever it was they were doing.

Hermione smiled softly at him. "Nothing good, I'm sure." She quirked her lips as a look of confusion spread across his face. She stood and moved behind him, ostensibly going to the drinks cart. Pulling her wand free from the holster on her wrist, she pointed it at the back of his head and whispered, " _Obliviate_."

Crossing back in front of Lucius, she was delighted to see the dazed look that indicated successful Obliviation.

"Miss Granger?"

"Hermione, remember, Lucius? We were just discussing how much I love your son."

"Yes, yes, of course," Lucius nodded and his eyes cleared as the false memories Hermione had implanted took hold.

Just then, Draco and Narcissa came back into the room. Draco smirked knowingly and Narcissa hid a giggle behind her hand as she joined her husband.

Hermione lifted her eyebrow at Draco, whose smirk turned into a grin and he plopped down on the settee next to her. Hopefully, he and Narcissa had been perusing engagement rings. That was the next step on her plan.

When Draco took both her hands in his and knelt before her, Hermione schooled her face into mild shock, and then excitement, successfully hiding the smirk that meant she was getting exactly what she wanted.

* * *

Narcissa had a headache again. They were getting more and more frequent these days. She wasn't sure when they started, maybe around Draco's wedding? He'd been married for almost two years now. At first, Narcissa had loved having Hermione as part of the family, but in the last month or so, something had seemed off about Draco's wife. She was becoming colder, or harder? Narcissa couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with Hermione.

Draco and Lucius didn't seem to notice, but Narcissa had found her looking exceedingly calculating. As if she were a lion awaiting her prey and it made Narcissa shiver when she thought about that look in Hermione's eyes.

She shook her head, why would she think something so ludicrous? Hermione was perfectly lovely. Narcissa downed the headache relief potion she kept on her at all times these days and breathed a sigh of relief as it began working its magic. She frowned as she realized she was in the middle of the east wing hallway and couldn't remember why she'd been over here. It wasn't often that she came this way as the east wing was Draco and Hermione's.

This was also happening more frequently, finding herself in portions of the manor and not remembering why she was there. Maybe she should make an appointment with her healer?

* * *

Hermione sighed as she rolled out of bed. Draco was insatiable, and while Hermione didn't particularly mind as he was a rather generous lover, she had plans today that he was impeding. She padded quietly to the bathroom.

"Going somewhere, love?" Draco called from the bed as Hermione exited the bathroom, dressed for afternoon tea.

"Yes, I have a committee meeting this afternoon," Hermione smiled tightly at her husband and gathered her handbag, intent on leaving.

Suddenly, Draco was behind her, his hands resting on her hips, pulling her to lean back against him. He was planting soft kisses along her neck and Hermione very nearly stomped one of her heels on his foot but refrained herself. She wondered idly if the next time she re-applied the Obliviation she could alter his memories of his libido. She bit her lip as he made his way to a very sensitive spot behind her ear and pulled away from him.

"Really, Draco," she smiled and turned in his arms, giving him a small kiss on his cheek. "I have to go."

Draco sighed and dropped his hands from her waist. "Fine, I'll see you at dinner?"

He sounded so hopeful, Hermione thought she felt her heart thump. She shook her head, she couldn't let her feelings get in the way of her plans.

"Of course," she smiled brightly and kissed his cheek once more before striding from the room.

* * *

" _Obliviate_!"

"Hermione?" Narcissa asked. She'd just come into Lucius' study to find her daughter-in-law standing behind Lucius, with her wand pointed at the back of his head.

" _Stupefy_!" A shot of red flew out of Hermione's wand and hit Narcissa in the chest and she knew no more.

When Narcissa woke up she found Hermione leaning over her. Her head was pounding and Hermione's form was out of focus.

"Oh, Merlin! Narcissa!" Hermione said, grasping one of Narcissa's hands. "Are you alright?"

"I— I'm not…" Narcissa trailed off as a wave of pain rolled through her head, blurring her vision further.

"Rest. You had a nasty fall," Hermione said. "Lucius is fetching the healer."

Narcissa wanted to nod, instead, she blacked out again.

The next time she came to, Lucius was sitting next to her.

"L-Lucius?" her voice was hoarse and weak.

"Cissy," Lucius said, his voice clearly relieved. "How are you, my darling?"

"Better, I think," she coughed then. "W-Water."

"Of course," Lucius helped her sit up so she could sip some water.

"What happened?" Narcissa asked. Her memory felt fuzzy and she wasn't sure if what she was remembering was real or a dream.

"You fainted in my study. On the way down, your head hit the floor."

"Oh," Narcissa closed her eyes again and blacked out.

* * *

Hermione's heart rate finally returned to normal once Narcissa was up and moving again, almost a week after she had stunned the woman. The incident with Lucius had been entirely too close for Hermione. She was losing control of Narcissa and that just wouldn't do. Could she poison Narcissa slowly before Lucius or Draco figured it out? Hermione wasn't even close to finishing her plan, and she was determined to do so, whatever the cost.

Thankfully, she'd been able to modify both Lucius and Narcissa's memories at the same time after she'd stunned Narcissa. She couldn't risk getting caught again. Narcissa had turned colder to Hermione and short of using Legilimency on the other witch, Hermione didn't know what Narcissa knew.

Maybe she should use Legilimency? Hermione was moderately proficient at it, she had to be in order to Obliviate and plant false memories, but so far she'd refrained. It was a huge violation of someone's privacy. She snorted at that last thought as if Obliviation was less of a violation than Legilimency.

The spells had to be kept up every few months, or the original memories would work themselves free. It was a variation on the standard Obliviate spell and Hermione had been hopeful that it would do less damage. She didn't want to permanently harm anyone like she had her parents. Hermione worked to clear her thoughts. Thoughts of her parents just caused anger and frustration and she needed to be calm in order to renew Draco's Obliviation.

Draco was by far the easiest Malfoy for her to Obliviate, as she had the most access to him. Draco was currently penning a letter at his desk in his study and Hermione was gearing herself up to Obliviate him. She was suddenly nervous, despite having done this several times already. The close call with Lucius and Narcissa a few weeks ago had really shaken her, but she was determined. She stood from her spot on the sofa, where she'd been pretending to read, and walked to Draco's desk. She lost her nerve at the last moment, meaning to walk behind him so she could keep an eye on the door and instead pointed her wand in his face.

"Hermione? What are you—"

" _Obliviate_ ," Hermione muttered.

"Hermione?!" Narcissa shrieked from behind her. Before she had time to implant the rest of the false memories for Draco, Narcissa had shot an Incarcerous curse at Hermione and her arms were bound to her sides.

"I _knew_ it!" Narcissa shouted. Hermione turned to find her mother-in-law stalking toward her with her wand pointed directly at Hermione's face.

"Mother!" Draco stood and dashed around to put himself between Hermione and Narcissa.

Hermione felt her lips twitch, she may not have had all the time she usually liked, but Draco was prepared to protect her.

"Get out of the way, Draco," Narcissa growled.

"What is going on?" Draco asked. "Why would you bind Hermione?"

"She Obliviated you! She Obliviated Lucius a few weeks ago! I've been reading up on long-term Obliviation and I have all the symptoms! She's been Obliviating us for years!" Narcissa was practically frothing at the mouth. Hermione was no longer worried. Narcissa was too worked up, Draco would never believe her. And Hermione could use this to get Narcissa out of the way for good.

"Narcissa," Hermione said as placatingly as possible, "I haven't Obliviated anyone. After what happened to my parents...?" Hermione let her eyes well with tears and was pleased when Draco thought to remove her restraints, taking one of her hands in his in solidarity. This at least, Hermione didn't have to fake, she truly did miss her parents and regretted what she'd done to them.

"Mother, I'm sure whatever you saw wasn't that. Maybe we should take you to St Mungo's?" Draco offered as he dropped Hermione's hand and stepped toward Narcissa.

"No!" Narcissa shouted. " _No_! She's doing this to us! She's doing it as revenge! She's going to steal our fortune!"

"Oh, Narcissa," Hermione said sadly.

Narcissa brandished her wand at Hermione and Draco took two quick steps forward and plucked it from her hand. "Come on, Mother," he guided her from the room, shooting Hermione a worried look over his shoulder.

* * *

Six weeks after her confrontation with Narcissa, Hermione gripped Draco's hand as they entered the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's. Hermione did feel a twinge of sadness that her repeated Obliviations along with the concussion Narcissa had suffered had led to her mental break. Hermione wasn't remorseful that she'd helped it along after Narcissa had been committed by doing a deeper Obliviation, one more reminiscent of the one she'd done on her parents.

She had an empire to run after all. Malfoy money to spend and charities to prop-up and she wasn't about to let Narcissa stand in the way of that. Draco and Lucius were so torn-up and heartbroken over Narcissa that Hermione had no issues manipulating them into getting what she wanted.

"Narcissa," she smiled warmly at her mother-in-law, but there was no recognition from Narcissa.

Hermione tightened her hand around Draco's, knowing how hard it was for him to see his mother like this. Also, knowing how well this incident had cemented her in Draco and Lucius' lives.


	2. Savior

**A/N: Written for the Slytherin Cabal FB group's Death by Quill competition in 2018. This is round 2 which was Confundus (Confusion) and my pairing was Ginny Weasley/Daphne Greengrass. Many thanks to my beta, ElleMartin, for her attention to detail! Thank you!**

 **Summary: Ginny is confused. She's not sure where she is, but the blonde girl always comes to help just when she needs it most. If only Ginny could remember who she was?**

 **Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Daphne Greengrass**

 **Rating: M**

 **Warnings: Mentions of non-con/rape.**

* * *

 _Savior_

* * *

Heart racing the moment the door to her room opened, Ginny Weasley cowered in the corner, refusing to look at whoever it was that came for her. It could only be one of the two… pigs. Pig was a good word for what they did to her. There were other words. Worse words, but pig felt right.

"Shhh, it's alright," a soft voice said. Ginny looked up to find herself staring into kind blue eyes. She was confused, she thought the other girl looked familiar.

"It's okay," the girl soothed, smiling. " _Confundus_. _Exhilaro_."

Ginny returned the smile, that was better. She was more confused about where she was and why she was here, but now she wasn't afraid. Not being afraid was good. In fact, she was happy. That's what Exhilaro meant, she was sure, it was the Cheering Charm.

"Do I know you?" Ginny asked as the other girl handed her a goblet of water. Ginny slaked her thirst greedily, allowing water to slip out of her mouth and down her neck.

"You used to," she smiled. "But it's alright. Don't try to think too hard, just relax."

Ginny grinned. She could do that, she could relax. She let the other girl, the pretty blonde girl, clean her up and feed her as she relaxed in the small room. Or maybe it wasn't a room, maybe it was a cell?

* * *

Daphne Greengrass breathed a sigh of relief when she left Weasley's cell. She was injured, but not too terribly that Daphne couldn't fix it. Daphne wished she was a more powerful witch. If she was, she could do more for Weasley than casting a weak Confundus Charm and an even weaker Cheering Charm. They were both likely to give out the moment any real terror presented itself to Weasley. Daphne felt absolutely sick about what was going on in the wizarding world these days, but she couldn't do anything about it. Not only was she only a mildly powerful witch, her father and brothers were in the thick of things with the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord, just the thought of him, made Daphne want to hide under the covers in her room and never come out. He was terrifying and she was glad that the Greengrasses were a minor enough power in the Death Eaters that they did not have to host him often.

Pulling her courage together, Daphne, banished the food and medical supplies and slipped out of the dungeons of Greengrass Park. If she were caught by either her brothers or father, things would go very badly for her. If she were caught by her mother or sister, then she'd have to explain exactly what she was doing and that… that would not end well either. It was best if nobody in her family caught on to any of it.

* * *

"No, no, no, no," Ginny chanted as the taller wizard stepped through the door. He was the worst. The shorter one just wanted to get off. But this one, the taller one, he wanted to hurt Ginny while he got off. She backed away from him, crouching in the corner, making her body as tight as possible.

"No use, Weasley. I'll have you whether you fight or not," the man growled at her as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to stand. "Keep fighting me, and you won't have any of this pretty red hair left."

"No! Stop!" Ginny screamed as he threw her onto the small cot. A whispered spell and her arms were pulled violently above her head and magically bound there.

"I'm glad you decided to keep fighting. It's better when you fight," the man sneered as he lowered his body onto hers.

Sometime later, the man left her cell, leaving Ginny tied to the bed.

Broken and bleeding.

"Oh, Circe," a soft voice cried and Ginny blearily opened her eyes. The blonde girl was back. She looked appalled at what was before her and Ginny tried to cover herself. Such a pretty girl shouldn't see something as ugly as Ginny. But her hands were still bound, and she couldn't cover herself. Even knowing the tattered dress she wore was still bunched around her hips. The neckline torn down to her navel, Ginny felt something was better than nothing.

"Shhh, it's okay. Calm down," the blonde girl said softly, quietly as she repaired Ginny's dress and unbound Ginny's hands. Ginny curled herself up as tightly as she could and tried desperately to shut off her mind. To not think about what had happened to her. What kept happening to her.

" Confundo ." Oh, that was better, Ginny thought. Now she was confused, but at least her overwhelming need to forget was dimmed. " Exhiliro ." And that was even better, Ginny felt a smile slide onto her face. She furrowed her brow and smiled at the same time and the blonde girl looked alarmed.

"Oh, that is not, a good combo," the blonde girl muttered and Ginny wracked her brain trying to think of where she knew this girl from, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Here, eat this," the blond girl shoved a steaming bowl of stew into Ginny's hand. Ginny sat up and began to eat slowly as the blonde girl waved her wand over Ginny, healing what she could.

"Thank you," Ginny said when the blonde girl stood to leave. The stricken look on the blonde girl's face confused Ginny even more.

* * *

Daphne was equal parts furious and terrified. Kenton had done such a number on Weasley this time that Daphne hadn't been sure she would be able to heal the girl. And when she had smiled and frowned at the same time, Daphne thought for sure she'd broken the girl's mind with her combination of Confundus and Cheering Charms.

Her heart broke when Weasley thanked her. Daphne closed her eyes and slid down the wall outside of Weasley's cell, digging her palms into her eyes as she willed her tears away. She couldn't afford a breakdown. If anyone found her here. If Kenton found her here… she shuddered to think what her oldest brother would do to her. He had always been mean and cruel, but the brutality he had displayed since the Dark Lord had won had shocked even Daphne's mother. Not her father though. Daphne's father had seemed so mild-mannered, compared to Kenton. Until the Dark Lord won the last battle and took over. Her father scared her now. She did everything she could to not be in the same room with the man.

Daphne didn't know what she was going to do about Weasley, but she was beginning to think that she was going to have to get Weasley out. There were whispers of rebel strongholds. If Daphne could get Weasley to one of those, maybe they'd take Daphne in too. Daphne didn't like leaving Astoria here, but Astoria was made of sterner stuff than Daphne. She'd survive. She also had the luck to have a marriage contract with Draco Malfoy. Daphne's own marriage contract was to Gregory Goyle. Daphne would find no relief in the Goyle household. Although considering that the Dark Lord lived at Malfoy Manor, Astoria would likely not find any relief there either.

Guilt ate at Daphne, but Weasley was more important than Astoria, at least to the rebellion. And without Weasley, Daphne would not be accepted into the rebel camps. So she had a choice to make: stay or leave. And while Daphne was loathe to leave Astoria and her mother, she didn't want to sit around and be complicit in Weasley's eventual murder. It was bad enough that she felt complicit in Weasley's repeated rapes. Daphne wished again that she were a stronger witch. Maybe if she were better at magic she could take both Astoria and Weasley away from here.

* * *

Ginny lay on her cot, looking up at the stone ceiling above her, contemplating what she knew to be true. She was so confused all the time these days that she had to focus on what she knew was the truth.

Harry Potter was dead. Truth.

Lord Voldemort ruled wizarding Britain. Truth.

Ginny was being held hostage by some Death Eater family. Truth.

Ginny was happy to be here. Lie.

She shook her head. Why did she feel so confused? And so bloody happy? It was disconcerting.

The blonde girl helped Ginny. Truth.

Ginny couldn't remember the blonde girl's name. Truth.

Ginny thought that maybe the blonde girl would help her escape. She knew she wasn't a Gryffindor, but maybe she could find the courage to get Ginny out of here. Wherever _here_ was. Ginny closed her eyes and slept, praying that she wouldn't be awoken by the evil pig again.

Sometime later she woke up.

The blonde girl was back, with more food.

"Tell me your name," Ginny asked. The blonde girl looked startled and shook her head. Her soft curls bouncing around her head.

"I can't," she whispered.

Ginny frowned, "But you know mine?" She was just guessing, but something about the girl was vaguely familiar.

"Ginevra Weasley," the blonde girl said quietly. "Youngest of the Weasleys, only girl born in seven generations. Gryffindor. Chaser."

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "You know a lot about me."

The pretty blonde girl blushed. "Eat this." She shoved another bowl of stew into Ginny's hands.

Ginny ate while she considered the blonde girl. Why did she know so much about Ginny and Ginny felt like she knew nothing about the girl? Who was she? Was she related to the pigs who raped her? Why was she helping Ginny in any capacity? So many questions and so few answers.

* * *

Daphne finally felt like she was able to breathe once she'd left the cell with Weasley in it. Why had she said so much? She didn't want Weasley telling Kenton or her father anything. Or Godfrey, her middle brother. Godfrey wasn't as depraved as Kenton or her father, but Daphne knew he went to visit Ginny, and he sure as Salazar wasn't visiting her for tea.

Daphne shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She thought Weasley was almost strong enough. All Daphne had to do was get Weasley out of Greengrass Park and then they could Apparate anywhere the rebel camps were. Daphne had heard of one in the Forbidden Forest, near Hogwarts. Supposedly there was another one in the middle of Muggle London, but Daphne didn't know Muggle London well. There was no way for her to find that one, but she thought between her and Weasley they could find the one in the Forbidden Forest. Daphne had found Weasley's wand, thank Merlin. She hadn't even realized that her father had possession of it, all she'd been looking for was a wand, any wand. But when she spotted it, hidden in her father's desk, she knew right away it was Weasley's. She remembered it from Hogwarts.

* * *

The next time the blonde girl came to see Ginny, the most mild-mannered of the pigs had just left. All he wanted was to get off, he even made it half-pleasant for Ginny. Although, it was still rape. At least he didn't beat her. Or burn her. Or force himself inside her before she was ready. No, he took his time, preparing her body, however, Ginny's mind might fight it. He even held her close when he was finished. And he never tied her down. If only he was the only pig who visited her, Ginny wouldn't find this life so intolerable. Although, if she didn't know what to compare him too, she was sure she would hate it just as much.

"How are you? Godfrey's not too bad, right?" the blonde girl asked. Her eyes were fearful and full of concern. Ginny didn't understand why this girl cared so much.

"Why do you care?" Ginny asked. It wasn't an accusation, it was an honest question, she truly wanted to figure it out.

The blonde girl blushed again. Ginny was beginning to form an idea of why the blonde girl cared, absurd as it was.

"Here." The blonde girl gave her some water and more food. Then cast several healing and cleansing charms. Ginny nodded her thanks as she ate and drank.

"I'm sorry," the blonde girl said as she produced a thick cloak and placed it around Ginny's shoulders.

"Are we going somewhere?" Ginny asked as the blonde girl placed a pair of winter boots in front of Ginny's feet.

"Put them on, we don't have much time."

Ginny complied. This at least was something different. And so far, the blonde girl had been the only person in this godforsaken place to help Ginny. Whatever trust Ginny had left, some of it was for this girl.

"I'm sorry," the blonde girl said again. " _Confundus_."

Ginny was instantly confused about where she was, and why she felt she needed to trust the blonde girl who stood in front of her. She was just tucking away her wand when she grasped Ginny's hand and pulled her to her feet.

"We have to hurry," the blonde girl muttered as she pulled Ginny along behind her. They left the cell and entered what appeared to be a dungeon corridor. The blonde girl turned to make sure that the hood of Ginny's cloak covered her hair. "Keep your head down."

Ginny immediately lowered her head to look at her feet as the blonde girl clasped Ginny's hand, twining their fingers and pulled her along.

It seemed an interminable amount of time later, and a few close calls, but they finally made it to outside the building. It was cold, winter, and dark, nighttime. There was snow on the ground and it crunched under their feet as the blonde girl led Ginny away from the manor house. Ginny chanced a look over her shoulder to see the imposing building slowly disappearing from view.

"Alright, I think this is far enough," the blonde girl whispered quietly, her breath puffing in the nighttime air.

"Far enough for what?" Ginny asked and suddenly the blonde girl was enveloping Ginny in a hug. Before Ginny could think about it what that meant, she felt as if she were being sucked through a tiny straw. The blonde girl had side-along Apparated Ginny.

When they landed and Ginny had caught her breath, she found she was standing on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"Why…" she trailed off as the blonde girl laced her fingers with Ginny's again and pulled her along. Ginny snapped her mouth shut and followed the girl as they left Hogsmeade behind and entered the forest.

They walked for hours, without coming across anything. It was winter, many of the animals hibernated, even magical creatures hibernated when food was scarce.

"Where are we going?" Ginny finally asked. She was tired and footsore. The boots didn't quite fit, and she had no socks. She was sure she was bleeding. She understood that this was better than the cell, but in this moment, she just wanted to curl up on her little bed and go to sleep.

"They'll find us soon," the blonde girl said, though her tone lacked confidence.

"Who?"

The blonde girl shook her head and led Ginny onward.

Finally, just before dawn, the sky began to lighten from pitch to grey, a shout from their left was heard.

"Who goes there?"

Ginny thought she recognized the voice, it sounded like…

Bill Weasley stood before them, wand pointed at them.

"Bill," Ginny whispered, then threw back her hood and ran forward, shouting, "Bill!"

Bill caught her, hugging her tight to him. "Is it really you? Ginny?"

Ginny nodded, crying happy tears at seeing her oldest brother. "It's me! It is! Remember when you were going to your last year of Hogwarts?"

Bill nodded, smiling as if he knew what story Ginny would tell.

"You took your stuffed dragon, Mr Burnington with you every year. But that year, I begged you to leave Mr Burnington with me, to remember you by and you did."

"Merlin, it really is you," Bill hugged her close again and Ginny closed her eyes, burying her face in his chest. She had no concept of the amount of time she'd been locked up with the blonde girl's family, but it had to have been months at least. She'd been captured at the Battle of Hogwarts, and that had been in May. It was dead of winter now.

"Who's your friend?" Bill asked finally, as he pulled away and gestured to the blonde girl, standing awkwardly behind them.

Ginny turned to her, her heart full. This girl had not only helped Ginny when in captivity but had brought her back to her family. The blonde girl had saved Ginny.

"A friend," Ginny said. "She's my friend."

"Daphne Greengrass," the blonde girl introduced herself to Bill, holding out her hand. Ginny gasped, she remembered Daphne Greengrass. She remembered her because she always seemed to have her eye on Ginny at Hogwarts. "I'd like to parlay. My safety for the return of Ginevra Weasley."

Bill eyed her hand and looked at Ginny once more. Ginny nodded. "You can trust her. She's helped me, and she's who brought me here. Without her…" She trailed off, unable to go on.

"Alright," Bill shook Daphne's hand. Bill sent a Patronus to somewhere else in the forest, summoning someone, but Ginny didn't know who. Her eyes were on Daphne. Daphne the name was so lovely in Ginny's head.

"Daphne," Ginny breathed and the older girl's eyes snapped to Ginny's. She reached out her hand. Daphne clasped it and Ginny stepped closer to her, this wonderful girl who she finally remembered.

Ginny leaned in, giving Daphne plenty of time to pull away in case she had read the signals wrong. But she hadn't. Daphne too leaned in, not breathing, her eyelids fluttered and Ginny took that as permission, pressing her lips to Daphne's. Ginny closed her eyes and Daphne softly, so softly returned the kiss, moving her lips under Ginny's in response to Ginny's. Daphne let out a soft sigh and Ginny pulled the girl closer, winding her arms around Daphne's neck, tangling her fingers in Daphne's long blonde hair, swiping her tongue at Daphne's bottom lips. Suddenly, all Ginny wanted in the world was to know what Daphne tasted like.

 _Home_. She tasted like home. When Daphne gasped, opening her mouth to Ginny's searching tongue, the taste of Daphne nearly brought Ginny to her knees. For the first time in months, Ginny didn't feel confused about _anything_. Finally, Ginny felt like she was home: with her savior.


	3. The Wandling

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Personal Library competition in 2018. It was a drabble competition and we were required to stay between 500-1000 words.**

 **Inspirational Quote: He stepped down, trying not to look at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking. - Anna Karenina.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini**

 **Summary: Blaise watches from afar until he works up the courage to actually speak to her.**

 **Rating: T**

* * *

 _The Wandling_

* * *

Blaise Zabini had always enjoyed Muggle literature. Blame it on his fifth step-father, Five, as Blaise called him. Five was a Muggleborn whose father had been a literary professor specializing in Russian literature, and his mother had been a famous Opera singer, which explained why Blaise's mother had been attracted to him. Five had given Blaise a taste for the classics, especially the Russian classics. Anna Karenina wasn't Blaise's favorite book, but it was the one that always reminded him of her.

Five had also been the one who was around the longest. None of them were around for too long, but Five had been around for close to three years. And he took an active interest in Blaise. He was the only one to have done so. Which was another reason Blaise had liked him the best of them all. But Five had died, just as the rest of them. Mother was on Nine now and Blaise barely saw her. She preferred the climates of Italy, while Blaise preferred the climate of London.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, he preferred the nightlife of London. Particularly his own corner of it, The Wandling. A dance club on the corners of Diagon and Knockturn Alley that he owned and managed. He had other restaurant properties, but the Wandling had been his first, and thus his favorite. The best part of the Wandling was who came into every single Friday evening with her co-workers. She would arrive looking harried and harassed, but a few drinks in and she'd take her hair out of the tight knot she kept it in, and hit the dance floor. He loved watching her dance. His office was on the second floor of the club, and it afforded him a view of almost everything.

Had anyone told Blaise that he'd be lusting after Hermione Granger when they'd been in school a few years ago, he would have laughed himself silly. Granger wasn't beautiful. She wasn't even conventionally pretty. But when she let down her hair and danced with abandon, Blaise found his mind going numb. She was like the sun, he both desperately wanted to look at her, but knew that if he looked too long, he'd get burnt.

It took almost six months of looking and not looking for Blaise to finally descend from his office overhead and approach her. Her friends had left and she was back at the bar, nursing a drink. He sat next to her and waved to the bartender.

"Zabini," her cool, smoky voice said, without looking at him. Blaise felt his heart rate speed up as the bartender slid him his usual, a firewhisky with a single ice cube.

"Granger," he replied, hopefully just as coolly, but he feared his voice trembled.

"You come here often?" she asked, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were the color of the whisky he was drinking and Blaise thought for sure that he'd drown in their depths.

He smirked at her, "Most days."

She seemed surprised by that answer and just watched him as she took another sip of her drink. Blaise didn't know for sure, but it looked like a gin and tonic. Maybe she didn't know that he owned the place? Or that he'd made it a habit to watch her as she let her hair down and danced her frustrations from the week away. He hoped she didn't know that last bit.

"I've never seen you," Granger said finally.

Blaise's smirk crept up into a smile, "That's because I'm usually working when you're here."

"You work here?" she asked incredulously. Blaise wanted to laugh. Did she think all Slytherin's just sat on their arses after graduation like Draco?

"I own the Wandling," he informed her with a small bit of pride.

"Ahh," she hummed and turned back to her drink.

"Would you like to grab a late dinner?" Blaise asked finally. The whole point of him leaving his elevated office had been to ask her out. And now he almost shook in trepidation that she would refuse him.

"I'd love to," she said turning toward him once more and gifting him with a large smile. Blaise thought right then that she was the most beautiful witch he'd ever laid eyes on. He stood and held out his arm. When she grabbed it lightly, he guided them both from the club and into the world beyond.


	4. Better Man

**A/N: Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare B-Side for the Fairest of the Rare FB group! Check out all the entries on AO3, they are amazing! Much love to my alpha RachaelLa26 and my beta brownlark42! Both gave such great input on this piece, it wouldn't be what it is without them.**

 **Song Prompt - Better Man, Pearl Jam.**

 **Pairing: Aurora Sinistra/Quirinus Quirrell**

 **Rating: T**

 **Summary: Aurora Sinistra lived for the stars above her head until someone came along to drag her back down to earth.**

* * *

 **Better Man**

* * *

 _1983_

* * *

Aurora Sinistra was a bit of a loner at Hogwarts. Most Slytherins kept to themselves, but Aurora more than most. She just didn't get along with people. People were all so small and petty. Now the stars, on the other hand, were fascinating. Their movements and how they affected even the most mundane of spells had always enthralled Aurora. She spent whole days each in bed, sleeping, just so she could spend the whole night gazing and charting the stars. The stars were the only things that made her feel truly awake—truly alive. They were fascinating and captivating. She didn't think anything could ever replace the stars. Just thinking about them made her heart soar and her skin tingle. If there were an option for her to go and live among the stars, she would.

After her third year, she dropped every class she could, only picking up Arithmancy in order to improve her charting skills. She rather preferred hiding away from everyone else, and she would have continued doing so had she not run into that Ravenclaw in her fifth year.

Quirinus Quirrell was unlike anyone that Aurora had met. He was as quiet and studious as she, although his focus lay in Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Astronomy. She could forgive him that because of his single-minded focus on his chosen subject reminded Aurora of herself. He was startlingly intelligent and she admired his deliberate, almost stubborn, quest for knowledge. Nothing could stop him from pursuing his interests. At first, when Quirrell approached her, she brushed him off. What did she want with a sixth year Ravenclaw? But he continued to seek her out; even following her to the Astronomy tower, and allowing her as much silence as she wanted while she charted the night sky.

Finally, almost two months after he sought her out, she asked him what he wanted.

"To know how to love something as much as you love Astronomy," Quirrell had answered. Aurora had been taken back at his response. He certainly didn't sound like any teenage boy she knew.

"Don't you love Defense that way?" Aurora asked.

Quirrell peered at her and nodded slowly. "Maybe, but to truly defend against something, you have to study what you are defending against."

Aurora's eyes widened at the implication that Quirrell was studying the Dark Arts. As a Slytherin, it wasn't unheard of. Plenty of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families were heavily involved in the Dark Arts, but people didn't usually talk so openly about it.

"Do you love the Dark Arts the way you _should_ love Defense?" Aurora asked.

Quirrell's eyes widened and a slow smile formed on his face. "It seems we do understand each other," he murmured. "Call me Rinn."

"Rinn?" Aurora asked.

"Quirinus is a fucking mouthful," Rinn shook his head with a laugh. "My parents were _way_ too into alliteration."

Aurora quirked up her lips at that. "Rinn it is then. Aurora." She held out her hand and he shook it gently.

After that, Aurora and Rinn were practically inseparable. Rinn didn't care what people thought about him and he was frequently found sitting with Aurora at the Slytherin table. Aurora also didn't care what people thought about her, but she wasn't about to buck Slytherin norms by sitting elsewhere. Nor did she want to look desperate. She wasn't desperate for Rinn's attention, although she certainly didn't mind it. Rinn was the first boy to show interest in Aurora. Really, the first person to ever show her any attention. Even her parents were a little standoffish, a bit cold, and somewhat indifferent to Aurora.

Aurora loved sharing the dazzle of the stars with Rinn. He _listened_ to her and asked such intelligent and unexpected questions. He was bright enough that she could bounce ideas off of him, even though he didn't always understand them. Rinn was the best sounding board for her hypotheses—things she knew would change the discipline for decades to come.

Even though they didn't share their academic disciplines, Rinn was still willing to stay up all night with her. It was a good change for Aurora, not having to shiver on the tower by herself. It wasn't something she had expected. And she found once she had it she didn't know if she could give it up. It was lovely that he let her revel in the stars and still stayed by her side. She'd never had that before.

Her only qualms came when they talked about how they could change the world. Aurora knew she would be able to bring so much more to the field of Astronomy, and Rinn was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts. But there was always a little dissonance in how Rinn talked about the Dark Arts. Aurora was never quite sure about the glint in his eyes when he discussed various dark methods. They always seemed to excite him much more than defense, and he was never specific about what his exact goals were. She wanted to press him more about his plans, but she told herself that his obvious determination, his almost fervent commitment to whatever he sought, was enough. She didn't need to know his intended path, as long as he still had that hungry spark in his eyes, the one that told her he would get what he wanted. She just hoped what he wanted was actually good for him.

Once, he'd asked her about whether or not the movement of the stars could be used to hurt people. She answered, although tentatively and academically, that the movement of the stars only influenced magic. Then she'd asked him why. His response left her unsettled, making her think he might be lying to her. It was something he'd never done before; he'd changed the subject, and Aurora put it out of her mind.

* * *

It was halfway through her sixth year that Aurora realized that Rinn would be leaving her soon. She had anticipated his upcoming graduation, but she hadn't been prepared for the conversations they were having. Rinn wanted to travel the world, to learn about Dark Magic and the defense of it from other cultures. He was outlining his plan as they were nestled into a warm, knit blanket on top of the Astronomy Tower. Rinn had his arm thrown over Aurora's shoulders. For once she wasn't busy charting the night sky or working Arithmantic equations on which way the stars would move and influence magic next. She was just enjoying the warmth of Rinn, the comfort of another person holding her.

"You make me a better man," Rinn whispered into her temple. "You make me want to _be_ a better man."

"You are a good man," Aurora insisted. She turned slightly, so she could gaze into Rinn's face. He had a faraway look in his eyes and Aurora reached a hand up to cup his cheek, bringing his focus back to her. His dark eyes bored into her own and she admired the difference his pale skin made against the dark color of her hand. "You _are_ a good man."

"Perhaps," Rinn quirked his lips. "When I'm with you, at least." He leaned down and brushed his lips against Aurora's. She couldn't stop the flutter in her heart or the need to push back against him, the need to deepen the kiss. "Perhaps for you, I will be," Rinn murmured as he kissed along her jaw toward her ear. Aurora shuddered and resolved to enjoy the time she was able to spend with Rinn before he left Hogwarts for good.

The day Rinn and Aurora parted for good, she'd given him a crushing hug at King's Cross station. "I hope you'll be able to pursue your interests and learn and become the strong wizard I know you are," she said, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"For you, I will be," he promised again. By the time she began her seventh year, she would be alone once more at the top of the Astronomy tower.

* * *

 _1985_

* * *

Maybe Aurora should have expected it: Rinn turned up at King's Cross the day she stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time. They'd exchanged owls twice a month the entire time he'd been off traveling the world and he'd never mentioned that he would be back in Britain.

"Rinn!" she shouted the moment she saw him. His grin was huge and she didn't notice at first how skinny he'd become. It wasn't until she pulled away from him that she realized he was practically gaunt. "How are you?"

"As well as I can be." Rinn grinned tightly. "Let's go grab some dinner. Are your parents here, waiting on you?" He looked around the chaos of the platform but Aurora shook her head.

"I've secured an apartment for myself in Diagon Alley," she explained. "I'm planning an apprenticeship under Master Ogunati."

"That's brilliant, love," Rinn enthused. He grasped her around the waist and spun her around. Aurora laughed at his exuberance, putting aside her worry about his appearance and where he'd been during his travels. "Definitely a dinner to celebrate."

* * *

 _1991_

* * *

Aurora and Rinn kept in touch over the following years, but Rinn continued to travel the world while Aurora returned to Hogwarts after earning her Mastery. She longed for Rinn to settle down with her, but she would never say that to him. Aurora was thrilled when she found out that Rinn would be coming to Hogwarts for the next school year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She tried to suppress her pleasure, but couldn't stop the staccato beat of her heart.

He arrived in Britain in May and Aurora sent him an owl to meet. She'd been alone for so many years that she tried to tell herself she was used to it. But the thought of seeing Rinn again made her pulse race and her arms break out in gooseflesh. She couldn't wait to take him to the top of the Astronomy tower again; to spend nights with him, gazing at the stars, like they did as school children.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded when Aurora left the school to meet Rinn. It was evening, and it seemed like most of the village was in the pub. She only had a few hours to get back to the school before her midnight class.

She almost didn't recognize Rinn when she saw him. He was exceedingly thin, and wearing a strange purple turban.

"Rinn?" she asked as she approached the table.

"Aurora!" His greeting was tired—even though he seemed to project as much enthusiasm as he could into it.

"How are you?" Aurora asked into his chest as he squeezed her tight. He smelled different and she wrinkled her nose.

"As well as I can be," he said, pushing her back to look at her. "You are looking very well, indeed."

Aurora flushed at the compliment and took a seat across from him at the small table. Rinn reached over grasping her hands in his. They trembled, something she'd never noticed in the past, and felt clammy.

"Are you alright, Rinn? You seem out of sorts?" Aurora asked.

Rinn winced and glanced away from her, pulling his hands away as well. "I'm fine, Aurora. Better than fine really. And I'll be back at Hogwarts soon—back with you."

She smiled but felt an unease that slowly gave way to disappointment throughout the course of the evening. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest. The man before her was not Rinn. Not the Rinn she knew once before. This man was scared of something; trembling and stuttering. He didn't once ask her any questions about her research and he showed no interested in the stars she loved so much. He didn't talk about his former passions. And when his travels came up in conversation, he'd changed the subject. When Aurora asked him about his lesson plans for the upcoming school year, at last, his eyes sparkled with something like interest but his trembling increased and he began stuttering and talking almost too quickly for Aurora to keep up.

By the end of the evening, Aurora knew that there would be no going back to the relationship they'd had as teenagers. Rinn was too strange now, too different. She'd attempted a hug, but he'd pushed her away before she got too close. Despite the change in their relationship, Aurora was determined to be his friend and try to support him. She wanted to figure out what had changed. Because something had—and it seemed to frighten Rinn as much as it frightened Aurora.

Her worst fears were realized when the end of the school year came and Rinn was revealed to harbor something dark. Something that resulted in his death. She'd had higher hopes for him, for his potential to become a remarkable wizard. She knew he could have been a better man but she'd been terrified of tying him down. Terrified of clipping his wings and holding him back. He had been so smart and passionate, beautiful and complicated when they were younger. It had grieved her to see him fall apart as the year went on.

It took her far longer than she wished to forgive the Potter boy for Rinn's murder. She knew it wasn't Potter's fault.

The next time Aurora was up all night alone in the Astronomy tower, she found herself wistfully wanting to believe that she could wish upon one of the stars she knew so well. She wanted the stars to be powerful enough to change someone's path. _She had tried too late._ She wished she could go back and stop Rinn from leaving. Help him be the man he wanted to be. The man Aurora wanted him to be.


	5. Lost and Found

**A/N: This was written for Dramione Fanfiction Writer's Halloween Trope Fest. I was given a Muggle AU trope and I realized when I started writing this, that I don't actually like Muggle AU's all that much. But I do love to challenge myself, so this strange little piece below is a Muggle AU, and I really kind of love it. I don't explain much, so it's up to you to decide what happened. Are they in an alternate timeline? Parallel Universe? Obliviated? A dream? I'm not sure. You decide.**

 **Thanks to my alpha, brownlark42 for giving me this idea. And many thanks to my beta, RachaelLA26, who had to go through this twice because of computer issues. She's truly a saint!**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione feels loss and lost. She and Harry are both plagued by flashbacks to a life they never lived. When she meets Draco he seems to be the answer to every question she never knew she needed to ask.**

* * *

 **Lost & Found **

* * *

Hermione woke up groggy. The dream she'd just had faded away to bits the more she tried to grasp at it. Lately, she was having them more and more. A glance at her cell phone told her why. It was nearly Halloween. The strange dreams she suffered were always worst at Halloween and the beginning of May. She had no idea why.

Stumbling down to the kitchen, Hermione started a pot of coffee for her and her flatmate Harry. They used to live with Ron, their other best friend, but Ron was off playing for the National League: the Abbey Rangers—a middling team situated to the far west side of London. Since he had to be up so early for practices, he'd moved out of the flat shared by the three of them and into one near the stadium. Hermione and Harry barely saw him these days.

She'd just poured herself a cup of coffee when Harry tripped down the stairs and into the kitchen. He looked like he barely slept and Hermione passed him her mug of coffee, pouring a new one for herself.

"You look like shit," she commented, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I feel like shit. I had another one. A bad one," Harry said, adding copious amounts of sugar to his coffee.

"Which one?" Hermione asked. Harry's dreams or flashbacks as Hermione liked to call them, always seemed worse than hers somehow.

"The one I always get at Halloween. The screams of the mother I've never met. The bright, sickeningly green light. I see a nursery, so I think I'm a baby?" Harry shook his head as he tried to muddle through the recollection. "But I know it isn't real. My parents died in a car crash. I wasn't even in the car with them."

"Still doesn't explain your scar," Hermione pointed out. If Harry hadn't been in the car crash with his parents, then how did he get the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead?

Harry rubbed his forehead. "I know. And my scar often hurts when having a flashback. I just wish I knew what they meant."

"Me too," Hermione said quietly. "Me too."

* * *

Later that morning, Hermione was pulling stock in the bookstore she worked in when a flashback hit her.

 _She was a child, huddling in the corner of a bathroom as some large monster was smashing cubicles with his club. She screamed and suddenly Harry and Ron were there, trying to distract the monster. More cubicles fell apart, some of the sinks too, the bathroom started to flood with water and Hermione felt frozen in fear. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe as the monster barreled toward her. She screamed…_

And found herself in the back room of the bookstore once more. Hermione slid down the bookshelf she had been stocking and hugged her knees to her chest as her skin prickled with goose pimples. She was shaking with fear and tried to work on breathing at a steady rate. She hated these flashbacks. She didn't know if they were memories or peeks into an alternate universe, or something else completely. But they were always in the past. She was so young, Harry and Ron were so young, in all of them. They never showed her the future, at least she didn't think so. And, they had a patina of the past about them. She couldn't explain it, except that they all seemed to have happened a long time ago.

Almost half an hour went by before Hermione felt like herself again. She took a deep breath before standing and returning to the front of the store. She would have to finish pulling stock later. Luckily, her boss was sympathetic to what Hermione had told her was anxiety and allowed Hermione to work late if she had an episode during the workday.

As Hermione rang a customer up at the till she thought about whether being a shop assistant in a bookstore was really what she wanted to do with her life. She used to think she wanted to do something more than this, but for the life of her, she could not remember what.

The door to the bookstore opened with a jingle of the bell above it. Hermione glanced up to see a blond man she didn't recognize, closing the door behind him softly. He looked up swiftly as if he felt her eyes on him and the moment his grey eyes met hers, she could hear ' _filthy little mudblood_ ' spat at her over and over again. Shaking her head and moving her eyes elsewhere, Hermione finished up with her current customer. Sometimes her flashbacks were like that, just a phrase, or a feeling, or a smell that wouldn't leave her alone. Sometimes it was a song or a picture in her head she couldn't shake.

She didn't recognize the man, but something about him called to her, despite the slur that was rattling around in her head.

Her coworker took over at the till and Hermione returned to the storeroom to finish pulling stock from earlier. There had been a popular book released recently and their stock was getting low. Hermione hefted a few boxes onto a dolly and wheeled them out through the store.

The blond man was browsing at the newly released table as Hermione began stocking. His hair was a shocking, almost white blond and his grey eyes were unfathomable pools. Sharp cheekbones along with a strong jaw completed the visage. Hermione was instantly attracted to him and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Hello," his voice was deep, richly aristocratic, but friendly enough. He gave her a small smile.

"Hi," she said with a tight smile. "Can I help you find anything?"

"No, just browsing. Although have you read this?" He held up the book she was stocking.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not really into science fiction. Although it's selling well, it's probably decent if that's what you like."

He nodded and moved around to the other side of the table where books that weren't quite as new were piled. As Hermione stacked the books, the man kept looking at her as though he thought he knew her, but couldn't place her. Hermione had a similar feeling. She _knew_ she didn't know him, and yet, somehow, he seemed so familiar.

"This is awkward, but would you like to grab a drink sometime?" the man asked out of the blue.

Hermione was used to customers attempting to pick her up. Normally, she would turn them down with a polite refusal, indicating she had a boyfriend. But, there was just something about this man, she felt like she _needed_ to get to know him better.

"I don't go out with strangers," Hermione said. Then she stuck out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Draco Malfoy." The blond man shook her hand, and his hand felt warm around hers. Her skin tingled, almost as if in recognition, but still, she knew she didn't know him.

"There's a party tonight. Halloween, you know? Want to meet me there?" Hermione asked. She felt safer inviting him someplace where all her friends would be.

"Yes, alright," Draco agreed. Hermione gave him the address and directions and Draco took his purchases to the counter. "See you tonight," he said as he gave a little wave and walked out of the bookstore.

* * *

The moment he walked into the bookstore, the phrase ' _foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach_ ' reverberated around his head. His nose hurt, as if someone had just punched him and he touched it lightly, it didn't feel swollen under his fingertips, although the pain didn't go away. Sometimes he had these _episodes_ , like intense deja vu that he just couldn't explain.

He felt eyes on him and turned quickly to find a woman staring at him. She had huge, bushy brown hair that Draco itched to dig his fingers in. Her pert mouth was infinitely kissable and Draco immediately felt attracted to her. He didn't know her, had never seen her before in his life, and yet seeing her now, it felt as though a missing piece, something he'd been missing for as long as he could remember, had finally slipped into place. She answered questions he didn't even know to ask and he hadn't spoken a word to her.

The impulse to ask her out was so strong, that it was almost the first words out of Draco's mouth. Luckily, his aristocratic upbringing at least stalled him long enough to say hello first. He shook his head, he knew he had an aristocratic upbringing, but searching for the Malfoy family name had led almost nowhere. Another mystery in a lifetime of them. One he wasn't sure he'd ever solve.

The moment she said her name, he rolled it around in his head. It felt like coming home. It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world; the way this woman looked at him. He couldn't wait to see her that night. He'd walked out of that bookshop with a spring in his step. One he hadn't had in a long time, if ever.

* * *

The house was a small cottage on the outskirts of London. The wind blew the last of the leaves from the trees, and they skittered down the street as Draco approached the cottage. He could hear Jane's Addiction blasting from somewhere inside the house. He knocked on the door, half-thinking nobody would hear him and wondering if he was brave enough to open the door on his own when a small blonde woman opened it. She had bulbous blue eyes and cocked her head to the side, looking at Draco quizzically. He heard the echoing clank of a dungeon door in his head. Another episode. Two in one day was unusual and as the clang rippled through his head again, he wondered how he knew that it was a dungeon door slamming closed that he heard. He was sure he'd never even _seen_ a dungeon in his life, let alone heard the slam of such a door.

"Er, hi," Draco said. "Hermione invited me…"

The woman brightened. "Hi! I'm Luna, come in! Hermione's just arrived!" Luna seemed to exude a joy and happiness that Draco had never in his life achieved. The ricochet of the dungeon door faded from his mind as he entered a crowded sitting room, the music was much louder here and Draco spotted Hermione across the room. She was standing next to a black-haired man who had startling green eyes. When he met the gaze of the other man, ' _Malfoy_ ' rang in his head, hissed as if it were a curse. Three in one day was positively unheard of for him. He recoiled as ' _Malfoy_ ' sounded again in his ears, this time spat at him. The black-haired man's eyes widened and Draco wondered if he knew what had just happened.

He shook his head and finished crossing the room. The black-haired man touched Hermione's shoulder and said something to her as Draco walked up.

"Hello," Draco said, nodding at Hermione.

"Hi," Hermione smiled at him. "Draco, this is my friend Harry Potter. Harry, this is Draco."

"Do you have them too?" Harry asked, looking at Draco quizzically.

"Have what?" Draco asked hesitantly. He held his breath as if whatever Harry was going to say next was going to change his life. Or solve the mystery of the _episodes_.

"Flashbacks," Hermione said. ' _Foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach_ ' resounded through his head again.

"I call them episodes," Draco admitted.

* * *

Hermione was tired but happy. Inviting Draco to Luna's party had absolutely been the right call. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but Draco made her feel _alive_. As if she'd been asleep all these years, and finally he came along and she woke up. Her heart beat faster when he was near. There was a tension in the air, an excited energy that had her bouncing on her toes.

The night was winding down, the music had slowed from the rock and pop beats earlier into some slow, 80's love songs. They're cheesy, but a favorite of Luna's. Hermione and Draco were swaying slowly in the middle of Luna's sitting room with a handful of other couples. Her head was resting on Draco's chest and she could hear his heart beat strongly inside. It was a steady rhythm that made Hermione's breath quicken.

Hermione pulled back and gazed up at him. He smiled at her slowly. Impulsively, Hermione leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. Draco stiffened for a moment before returning the kiss and then deepening it. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and Hermione was sure that her heart skipped a beat. They both pulled away at the same time and a sense of giddiness flooded Hermione. She giggled slightly, and when Draco joined in, they both broke into guffaws. It felt like joy. Something that had been missing from her life for what like forever.

Not long after that, Hermione, Draco, and Harry took their leave. Hermione invited Draco back to the flat she shared with Harry.

As they said their goodbyes to Luna, she looked at Hermione and Draco's clasped hands and said the oddest thing. "It's about time."

Hermione looked at Luna funny. They haven't ever discussed it, but Hermione was always quite sure that Luna had the flashbacks too.

The moment they were back at the flat, Harry took his leave and retired to his room. Hermione pulled Draco along the long hallway to her room, at the end. Ron's empty room sat between Hermione and Harry's rooms.

The kiss shared at Luna's party, was sweet and innocent, with a promise of things to come buried in it. The kiss they shared once the door to Hermione's bedroom was shut was everything that the earlier kiss was not. Passionate and heated, and it had Hermione stripping out of her clothes and helping Draco with his.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked at one point, as Hermione tugged down his trousers.

"Merlin, yes," Hermione swore. "I've never been more sure of anything in my _life_."

Draco pulled her to standing and placed a hand on either side of her face, staring into her eyes intently. "Me neither," he whispered before pressing a kiss to her lips once more.

They fell into her bed, ravishing each other. And yet, for all the passion, there was tenderness, sweetness. And for all that Hermione had just met Draco, it seemed as though they were making love. As though they had known each other for years, for most of their lives, and everything leading up to this moment had been in preparation for it. It was the best night of Hermione's life.

* * *

Hermione half-expected to see Draco gone in the morning, but he wasn't. He was curled around her, holding her as though she were the life vest while he was adrift in a huge ocean. It was endearing, and anchoring, and exactly what Hermione felt like she needed. How was this possible? Is this what love at first sight was like? She didn't know, but she did know she needed the loo.

Harry was in the kitchen when Hermione returned from the bathroom. Hermione nodded to him and poured herself a mug of coffee.

"He still here?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "I think he's going to be around for a while."

It was Harry's turn to nod. Hermione stared off into the distance as a not-quite-flashback came over her. It was less flashback and more like a feeling.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked. "What's wrong."

"I don't know. I'm not sure anything is wrong. I just feel funny… like something is missing, but…" Hermione trailed off.

"What?"

"Loss. I feel lost all of the time. But Draco? He makes me feel found."


	6. Past Promises

**A/N: This was written for the Strictly Dramione's Halloween 2018 Fest, which was promptless. Thanks to brownlark42 for being the best alpha and giving me the idea for this piece. And thanks to RachaelLA26 for betaing it for me! I couldn't have done it without either of them. If you like this, or hated it, drop me a review! I make manips for most of my works, find them on my Tumblr: crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione and Draco have a past together and promises that were unkept.**

* * *

 **Past Promises**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 1: Promises_**

* * *

 _October 1998_

* * *

Draco Malfoy stopped abruptly when he found his usual table in the library already occupied. Granger was there, of course. Did she know it was his table? He didn't think so, they'd only been back at school for a few weeks. Granger was back because she didn't finish last year. Draco was back as part of his conditions for parole. He wasn't upset about it though; sixth year was a blur and he knew he had failed most of his classes. Seventh year he'd hardly been in school at all. Draco and Granger were the only ones back from their year. It made Draco uncomfortable and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he watched Granger write something on a piece of parchment.

"You going to sit?" she asked suddenly, piercing him with her frank gaze. Draco looked into her warm, brown eyes and nodded jerkily.

He pulled the chair out across from her and sat as she turned back to her work.

"What are you working on?" she asked.

"Was going to start Potions," Draco mumbled and began digging in his bag for the appropriate books. He had been planning to speak with her at some point this year. He'd even contemplated asking her if he could sit down. He was a little stunned that she'd asked first. He was very stunned that she seemed to not hold a grudge against him. He shook his head and buried thoughts of her screaming on the floor of his drawing room. He could have a nightmare about it later. He had a Potions essay to write.

"Oh!" Granger lit up and grinned at him. "I'm working on Potions too, here." She shoved a pile of books his way. "These were really useful."

Draco nodded his thanks and sorted through the books, looking through the titles and trying to decide which would be best to start with.

"I began with Hubertson's _Treatise on the Properties of Asphodel and Fungi_ ," Granger offered. "It was alright. But I found Blankenson's _Asphodel and Fungi: The Mystery_ , much more informative."

"Did you look at Klinter's _Fungi and Where to Find Them_?" Draco found himself asking as he dug the book from his bag.

"No! I didn't even know it was still in print!" Granger looked up from her essay, shock clear on her face as she grabbed the book from Draco's hands. "Where did you get this?" She was already ignoring him as she flipped through it.

Draco shrugged and began reading through _Asphodel and Fungi: The Mystery_. He smirked to himself to see Granger crossing out major portions of her essay and copying information from _Fungi and Where to Find Them_.

* * *

 _November 1998_

* * *

Hermione Granger sighed heavily as she trudged through the dreary streets of Hogsmeade. The village wasn't the same post-war. Half of the shops had been shuttered and the half that were open hardly had any product. Hermione diligently read _The Daily Prophet_. But obviously, there were things going on in the wizarding economy that the paper didn't report. She shook her head and groaned when she realized she'd stepped in a puddle. It had snowed earlier in the week, but it had warmed again and the snow had melted. Hermione had tried to get away with her sneakers versus her boots and was regretting the decision as she hastily dried her feet.

She trudged forward once more and almost ran into the back of someone.

"Oh, sorry. Wasn't paying attention," she murmured and looked up to find Draco Malfoy looking down at her.

He wasn't sneering as he would have done in the past and that thought alone made Hermione smile.

"Alright, Malfoy?"

Malfoy nodded. "Want to grab a drink and get out of this weather?" he asked as the wind whipped around a corner and howled down the street. Hermione's grin broadened and she nodded her acceptance. "Three Broomsticks doesn't real—"

"It's alright, Malfoy," Hermione said and looped her arm through his, leading him back down High Street and toward the outskirts of the village. "I'm friends with Aberforth. He'll have a couple of butterbeers for us."

* * *

 _December 1998_

* * *

Draco shivered as he exited the Slytherin common room. The castle was frigid in the winter and, with the blizzard going on outside, the wind whistled through the cracks despite the extensive repairs from the summer. Clearly, there was something that had been missed. He wasn't sure why he was bothering to show up to the Great Hall for meals; it would be just him and the professors. He shook the thought from his head, he was following the conditions of his parole to the letter. The last thing he wanted to do was to end up in Azkaban. His father had paid a pretty penny to keep both himself and Draco out of the wizarding jail. And as much as Draco disliked his father these days, he wasn't about to risk his hide. So it was a surprise when he entered the Great Hall to see Granger also seated at the central table.

About half of the professors were present, and there was an open spot next to Granger. She smiled at him when he slid into it and began prattling on about an assignment for Arithmancy that was due in January. Draco replied when appropriate as he ate his lunch quickly.

"Want to go to the library?" Granger asked as he patted his lips with his napkin.

"Sure," Draco replied, not at all sure about the offer he was accepting. Although, when they reached the library, Granger settled into a table near the large fireplace.

"It's freezing in Gryffindor tower. I don't imagine it's any better in the Slytherin dorms."

"No," Draco chuckled lightly. "It's quite cold."

"And here I thought you'd adapt. Being so cold-blooded," Granger teased with a wink.

Her teasing startled Draco into an outright laugh. "Not as cold-blooded as you think, Granger."

They worked on the Arithmancy assignment companionably and Draco found he enjoyed Granger's presence. She was witty and sharp and she was always watching his reactions as if trying to puzzle him out. They spent quite a bit of time over the next two weeks ensconced in the library; not just working on assignments, either.

* * *

 _January 1999_

* * *

Hermione had grown more comfortable with Malfoy than she would have ever thought possible at the beginning of the school year. At best, she'd hoped they'd be able to tiptoe around each other as the only students from their original year at the school. She'd never imagined she'd spend the majority of her Christmas break in his company. Or that she'd enjoy it. School had just begun again and with it came a new round of assignments in all of their classes. It shouldn't have surprised her as Malfoy had always been quite smart, but he was in each of her classes, even if they didn't share them.

Ancient Runes was an elective that few elected to take, and so it was a combined class. After Christmas break, Malfoy had begun sitting next to Hermione in that class, as well as Arithmancy and Potions. Hermione didn't mind. He was a good work partner when it was needed and a conscientious student. So when Professor Babbling assigned them to work in pairs, Hermione had just grinned at Malfoy—who nodded to her solemnly his acceptance. Getting Malfoy to crack a smile, or better yet, laugh, had become a goal for Hermione.

They spent the month of January back in the library, going through the dustiest of Ancient Runes texts working on their project. It was the most fun Hermione had ever had on a school project.

* * *

 _February 1999_

* * *

Draco had always hated Valentine's Day. It seemed like such a _Muggle_ holiday, he couldn't figure out how it had seeped into the ethos of the wizarding world. It was ridiculous; even with Dumbledore gone—Draco bowed his head as he had the thought—the school was decked out in red and pink hearts. _Snape would have sneered to see the school in such a state_ , Draco thought to himself as he ducked under a red streamer that decorated the outside of the entrance of the Astronomy tower.

The Astronomy tower was a ghost he was trying to conquer. He'd dropped Astronomy after his sixth year, not able to stomach the thought of going to the one place in the school that held his worst memories. He contemplated the entrance tonight. He knew it could be full of teenagers snogging, but February on the Astronomy tower was awfully cold. In fact, tonight might be the best night to go up all year. It was cold, and everyone else was off with their partners. He took a deep breath and began climbing the stairs at a slow, steady pace.

He was near the top when he realized he could hear someone moving around above the sound of the wind whipping through the open walls at the top of the tower. He slowed his pace and strained his ears. It didn't sound like kissing, it sounded more like… crying? He frowned and stood on one stair with his left foot hovering over the next. Should he continue up? Or leave whoever it was to their misery?

 _Misery loves company_ , flitted through his head. He braced himself and climbed the last half-dozen steps to the top. He was glad he did because it was _Granger_ , of all people, huddled into the wall, crying.

"Granger?" he asked softly as he approached her.

She glanced up at him and buried her face into her hands with a groan. "Go 'way."

"Hey," Draco said and he dragged his cloak from his shoulders, tossing it around her, before kneeling before her. "Whatever it is, it'll be alright." Draco awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"I'm stupid. This is stupid. It's all just so bloody stupid," Granger said.

"It's alright," Draco said again as he smoothed a hand down her back.

A few moments later, Granger finally looked up at him and Draco realized he wasn't sure he'd ever been this close to her before. Her eyes were red from her tears and her cheeks were wet, but Draco thought she looked beautiful.

"Why are you here?" Granger asked.

Draco shrugged. "Trying to fight my inner demons, but then you seemed like you needed a friend."

The corner of Granger's mouth quirked up and she let out a small snort. "Thanks for putting off your demons for me."

"Anytime, Granger," Draco said. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face into his chest. Draco held her close, relishing the feel of her warm body in the freezing night air. "Care to tell me what this is all about?"

"Boys are stupid," Granger replied and shocked Draco into a chuckle.

"That they are, Granger. That they are."

* * *

 _March 1999_

* * *

Hermione decided she hated late March. It was cold and dreary and all she wanted was spring or better yet summer, but in Scotland, late March was still a time for winter. She'd been embarrassed that Malfoy had found her crying over Ron on Valentine's Day, but he seemed determined to ignore it, so she ignored it too. That at least made things better. Ron had sent a letter the day after Valentine's Day apologizing profusely for forgetting the holiday in the first place. Hermione felt stupid for even being upset about it. She and Ron's relationship was still so new. And really, one of the only relationships Hermione had ever had. She shook her head. Thinking about Ron and their relationship wasn't helping her mood.

She turned over, throwing one of her pillows over her head in a bid for sleep. She knew even if she did fall asleep, she was going to have nightmares. She contemplated taking a sip of her Dreamless Sleep potion but discarded the idea. She'd had some the last three nights and didn't want to become addicted. She should have thought ahead to _tonight_. She screwed her eyes shut tightly and began counting her breaths. It didn't take long before they evened out and she fell into a light doze.

Hermione bolted up in bed, sweating heavily. She panted and looked around with wide, fearful eyes. _You're safe. You're at Hogwarts. It was just a dream._ She repeated the mantra over and over again until her breathing had calmed. She couldn't even remember the dream, not really; just a cold hard floor, the sound of her screams in her ears. She shivered and looked at her watch. It was just past midnight. She knew it was no use; she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Hermione flung the heavy quilt off her body and grabbed her wand from the nightstand. She muttered a spell and found her feet encased in her boots, grabbing her heavy winter cloak on the way out the door. A walk around the grounds would hopefully clear her mind and tire her body so she could at least get a couple of hours of sleep.

She was halfway around the lake when she found she wasn't alone. Someone was just up ahead, leaning against a rock outcropping. Hermione suspected it might be Malfoy due to the bright sheen of the moon off his hair. As she trudged closer found she was right.

"Hey," she muttered quietly. Malfoy whipped around as if she'd startled him. He tucked his wand away when he realized who it was.

"Hey." He nodded at her.

"Couldn't sleep?" Hermione asked as she came to stand next to him.

"No…" he trailed off as if he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure what to say.

"It was a year ago today that—"

"I know, Granger."

Hermione nodded. Malfoy slipped an arm out of his cloak and placed it around her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Hermione told him as she leaned into his side. They stood there until their toes grew numb. When they were finally ready to go back to the castle, Malfoy walked her all the way up to the entrance to Gryffindor tower.

* * *

 _April 1999_

* * *

Draco turned his face to the sky as the sun finally peaked through the clouds of spring. It warmed his face and he almost smiled before he remembered where he was. Someone bumped into his shoulder, breaking his reverie and he glanced around Hogsmeade at the bustle of students. He turned toward the far end of town as something caught his eye. The sun was glinting off of Granger's hair. Draco smirked and made his way toward her.

"Ron!" she shouted and took off running down the street toward where the redhead had just Apparated in. Draco frowned as he watched Granger throw her arms around the git that had made her cry on Valentine's Day. Weasley hugged her back for a moment before pulling her into an embarrassingly graphic kiss. Draco made a face as he turned away and began making his way back to the castle.

* * *

 _May 1999_

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe that it was really happening. The day she'd been dreading since she learned of it back at the beginning of the year. She couldn't believe that people wanted to _celebrate_ today of all days. The day they had all lost so much. The headmistress had made it clear she expected each student to be present at the ball that evening. Hermione didn't even plan to show her face. Harry and Ron were stuck on assignment, so they wouldn't be coming either. She wasn't going to be the only one of the so-called 'Golden Trio' for the press to pick apart. Glancing down at her right hand, she contemplated the Puking Pastille clutched there. She didn't really want to take it, but she would if she had to.

Leaning against the wall, Hermione watched as the first guests began to arrive. She was hiding in the clock tower, hoping that her presence would go unnoticed by pretty much everyone. She hadn't even bought a dress for the occasion. She would rather eat poison then attend that evening's events.

"Hiding?" a deep voice said from behind her. She whirled around to see Malfoy standing near the entrance of the clock tower. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his face was curiously blank except for his left eyebrow, which was lifted in query.

"Something like that," Hermione muttered and turned back to the courtyard when a raucous peal of laughter reached her ears. She winced at the sound.

"Salazar," Malfoy muttered beside her. She peeked over at him to see he was sneering at the festivities going on below.

"It's disgusting," Hermione said.

"Come on," Malfoy said, tugging at her arm. She looked down at where his hand was then up to his face.

"To where?"

He smirked at her. That smirk a few years ago would have disgusted her. That night it made her heart beat faster. "It's a surprise."

She grinned at him and let him lead her along the upper floors of Hogwarts. They skirted around all of the public areas where people were congregating until they reached a half-hidden staircase that Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.

"Where are we?"

"It's a Slytherin thing," Malfoy said. He led her up the staircase. There were a few old doors leading off it, but nothing like a hallway. Hermione imagined they must be in a tower. When the finally reached the top she found out she was right. They were at the top of a tower.

"It's the West Tower. Most of the rest of Slytherin House is hanging out in the room below us."

"Why?" Hermione turned to face Malfoy. The sun was just setting behind him, making something like a halo of light around his fair hair.

"Because none of them were welcome. And this was better than hiding in the common room."

Hermione smiled at him as he turned to take in the sunset with her.

* * *

 _June 1999_

* * *

"Happy Birthday!" Granger announced from behind him. Draco turned to find her holding a chocolate cake with the words 'Happy Birthday Draco!' emblazoned on it in green frosting.

"How did you know?" Draco asked, smiling at her as they settled onto the blanket she had brought out for their study session.

"We've gone to school together for seven years, Malfoy. I'm not the brightest witch of my age for nothing," she said with a wink.

Draco chuckled as she handed him the knife to slice the cake. He cut her a small piece and placed it on the plate she was holding out.

"Where's my plate?" Draco asked, looking around. Granger only had the one and she was happily digging into her cake.

"You are legendary for your sweet tooth. Didn't think you'd need one." Granger smirked at him.

Draco's guffaws bounced around the lake and startled a flock of birds from a nearby tree.

* * *

Later that month, as they both boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time, Draco regarded Granger rather bittersweetly. She had been a true friend most of the year and he was sure he wouldn't have made it through the year without her.

"Promise to write?" Granger asked.

"Promise," Draco said, half-knowing that neither of them would keep it.

"Me too," Granger grinned at him and slipped inside the carriage she was sharing with a few other Gryffindors.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2 - More Promises**_

* * *

 _October 31, 2024_

 _7.07 AM_

* * *

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Millie Bulstrode pleaded with Hermione early that morning over tea. "You get to dress up and get out of the house! Don't worry about the costume, I'll take care of it. Just say you'll come. Please!"

"I don't know," Hermione edged, picking at the blueberry scones her roommate had made earlier that week. She and Ron had been divorced for five years and, with both her children at Hogwarts most of the year, she'd moved in with Millie after the sale of the house she had shared with Ron. Millie was the last of the Bulstrode's and owned a large townhouse in central London. She didn't even mind that Hermione's children came for a few weeks out of the year, when they weren't at Ron and Romilda's, anyway. And with Rose in her final year at Hogwarts, it would just be Hugo coming to stay with her on breaks. Millie's boyfriend was never going to propose, both Millie and her boyfriend had admitted that, so Millie had practically begged Hermione to come stay with her after the divorce. At first, Hermione had planned for it to be temporary, but five years later, she had admitted to herself that she wasn't planning to move out anytime soon. Millie hated living by herself in the huge townhouse and Hermione appreciated having someone to come home to at the end of a long day.

"Please, for me," Millie asked, turning her big blue eyes to Hermione. They hadn't meant to become friends, but they'd both started in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures post-Hogwarts and had quickly become fast friends. They had been the only ones in the department under the age of seventy. It had been a necessity at the time. Now, over a quarter of a century later, Hermione couldn't imagine what her life would be like without Millie.

"It's just going to be the same old people I see at every one of these things," Hermione complained.

"You never know," Millie said as she placed the butter back in the cooling cabinet. "Maybe you'll even find someone to fuck you." Millie's smirk was both saccharine and devilish.

"Millie!" Hermione threw her napkin at her roommate. "Aren't we a little old for dress up Halloween parties?"

"Old? Hermione Granger, you take that back. I," Millie struck a pose, sticking out her hip, and staring off into the distance, "will never be old."

"Mmm-hmmm," Hermione rolled her eyes at Millie's antics.

"Come on, it's at Blaise's new club. It'll be fun. I promise! And if you don't have fun you can make me do one un-fun thing. Whatever you want!"

Hermione glared at Millie. "Everything I do for recreation _is_ fun."

"Museums, especially Muggle museums are _not_ fun." She looked at Hermione with her puppy dog eyes again.

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "But whatever costume you pick out better not be indecent."

Millie squealed in happiness and jumped up and down, giving Hermione a big hug. "Thank you! You won't regret this, I promise!"

Hermione submitted to Millie's enthusiasm for a moment, before she broke free and headed for the Floo. Unlike Millie, who had quit the Ministry years ago to open her own interior design business, Hermione still had a boss to please.

* * *

Nothing went Hermione's way that day. First, the Floo connection had gone bad halfway through her trip and she'd landed in poor Mrs. Winterhouse's sitting room, halfway across the country. Then, of course, Mrs. Winterhouse was out of Floo powder and harangued Hermione for a full fifteen minutes about coming into someone's home uninvited. By the time Hermione had disentangled herself from Mrs. Winterhouse and managed to get outside to Apparate, the rain had started. She managed to mostly get her Impervious charm to work, but it was already too late for her hair. It frizzed up into a bushy mess that she attempted to contain with a low bun at the back of her head. She knew she looked a mess as she finally arrived at her desk in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It certainly wasn't her dream job, but she felt like she'd put in enough years that they would hopefully be promoting her soon. Unfortunately, she still rated a desk in the open office space, and not an office.

"Granger," her deskmate, a twenty-something called Ned, greeted her with a nod. "Boss dropped something big off." He kicked a pile of boxes sitting at the foot of her desk. Hermione leaned over to read the first one and realized it had something to do with goblins. She hated dealing with the goblins. They, the goblins, hated her for her role in breaking into and out of Gringotts during the war. Even all these years later, they held a grudge.

"Fuck," Hermione murmured as she set her cup of tea down on her desk and pulled her scarf from around her neck.

"Goblins, eh?" Ned asked with a grin. Hermione sneered at him and rubbed her temples. She'd better get through the boxes so she could figure out exactly what it was her boss wanted.

At lunch, her salad bowl was only half-full of salad, which she didn't realize until she'd walked all the way back to her desk with it. She sighed and ate it anyway, hoping that it was a mistake of filling the bowl and not that she was eating someone _else's_ half-eaten salad. Shoving the thought from her mind, Hermione focussed once more on the goblins.

By the end of the day, Hermione was just done with everything. All she wanted was a glass of red wine, a book, and a very long, very deep bubble bath. Her Floo connection at least worked this time and she stumbled out into the sitting room. The house was almost deadly quiet, which probably meant that Millie had left already. Hermione was fine with that, she wasn't much in the mood for conversation as it was.

She glanced at the calendar hanging on the pegboard in the kitchen and realized it was Halloween. She wondered how Harry was doing. He'd always hated Halloween and never celebrated it if he didn't have to. She decided she'd try to pop in and see him and Ginny this weekend, maybe bring them a bottle of wine or something. She made her way to her bedroom, where she found a complete outfit of a cat sitting on her bed. There was even a tail to be pinned to her trousers.

She groaned as she suddenly remembered her stupid promise to Millie that morning about attending this party. She _really_ didn't want to go, but Millie asked for so little from her that she felt obligated. Glancing at her watch, Hermione realized she still had enough time to have a bit of a soak before the party. As she began stripping off her work clothes, she spied a note pinned to the headband with cat ears.

 _Roomie,_

 _It's decent, I promise. Maybe a little snug, but you look good in snug._

 _Love,_

 _M_

Hermione frowned, at least she knew a few tailoring charms if the outfit turned out to be too snug. She examined it closely to find that the trousers were leather as was the top, which was a sleeveless mock turtleneck and the whole ensemble was black. She had an old black leather jacket that used to be her father's hanging in her closet she could pair with it to fight off the chill. Hermione let herself have a small grin at Millie knowing how to pick out an outfit Hermione would actually wear and took herself off to the bathroom.

* * *

 _October 31, 2024_

 _7.43 AM_

* * *

"So there's thi—"

"No," Draco snapped, not looking up from his porridge. Whatever Theo was selling, Draco wanted no part. He and Astoria had been divorced for fifteen years, almost as soon as Scorpius started talking, Draco realized what a mistake it had been to marry her. He couldn't be arsed to get his own flat and his father had kicked him out of the Manor, insisting that Astoria and Scorpius live there instead. So Draco had moved in with Theo at Nott Park and had never left. Theo didn't care, as the arrangement worked for him. Draco cared about things like house repairs and making sure that the leaks in the ceiling were taken care of. They both benefited from the arrangement.

"Come on, you don't even know what I was goi—"

"No is a complete sentence, Theo," Draco muttered, cutting off his roommate once more. Although with the size of Nott Park, Draco wasn't sure that they could be properly called roommates. Perhaps housemates was a better word.

The worst part of the arrangement was that Draco hardly ever saw Scorpius. Astoria had poisoned both Draco's parents and Scorpius against him. Draco knew it was something he _should_ care about. And sometimes he imagined actually _doing_ something about it, but at the end of the day, he never did. He liked his life the way it was now. It was simple to live with Theo. Draco even had a job that he really loved.

"Don't make me silence you," Theo threatened pointing his wand at Draco from across the dining room table. Draco finally dragged his eyes up to look at his best friend.

"What is it?"

"There's a party tonight. For Halloween. At Blaise's new club. I want you to come with me," Theo grinned at him. "It'll be like old times!"

"No," Draco said as he Vanished his porridge bowl to the sink in the kitchen and stood from his chair. He Summoned his leather jacket from the hall and swung it around his shoulders, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Come on! It'll be fun! Maybe you'll even get laid!" Theo wiggled his eyebrows at Draco.

Draco grimaced. "I said no. I'm not interested in a silly party, Theo. Besides, it'll be the same old people I see at every Friday at one of Blaise's clubs."

Theo rolled his eyes at Draco and pleaded, "Come on. Just go for me? When do I ever ask anything of you?"

Draco sighed knowing Theo told the truth. In all honesty, Theo had been really decent to Draco after the divorce. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. He should probably get it cut soon. "Is a costume required?"

"Technically yes," Draco bristled and Theo went on, "but I think if you come in your leather jacket you can get away with being a biker."

"Fine, but note my protest," Draco snapped and turned from Theo, heading to the front door.

"Don't be so dramatic. The doors open at seven and dancing begins at eight!" Theo called from behind him.

Draco waved his hand in acknowledgment and slipped outside the front door. A wave of his wand brought his beloved Muggle motorbike from the garage he'd made Theo build for it. He'd charmed it to fly, which made the commute from Bedfordshire to central London much easier. There was even a button to make the whole contraption invisible. He'd heard about his cousin Sirius' motorbike from his Aunt Andromeda a few years after the war and had been inspired. He hadn't purchased this one until after the divorce. And after his father had kicked him out of Malfoy Manor. If he was going to be labeled the rebel, well, Draco was going to live up to that label.

He climbed onto the motorbike and started it with a jump then roared down the gravel path toward the closed gates of Nott Park before taking off into the morning drizzle.

* * *

Draco's day only went downhill after his conversation with Theo that morning. He'd always been good at Charms, so after the divorce, he'd found work at a shop in Diagon Alley as an apprentice Metal Charmer. He'd moved up the ranks and was a journeyman now. It was dirty, hands-on, sometimes hard work, but Draco loved it. When he perfectly got an object to accept all the magic that would make it last for a thousand years, it was a high he'd never get used to. There was a satisfaction in creating something with your own hands. That was another high Draco would never get used to. The drizzle at Nott Park had lasted all the way into London where it turned into an actual downpour just as Draco was guiding his bike to the back alley behind the shop. He entered the back door soaking wet and freezing, charming himself as dry as he could. The shop itself was kept blisteringly hot in order to make the metal they worked with more malleable.

"Boss is on a tear today," his coworker Davies said as Draco reached his station. "A whole shipment of snitches went bad."

"A whole shipment?" Draco asked in disbelief. That was over five hundred snitches. How in the world would a whole shipment go bad?

"Inferior metal or something," Davies replied. "I don't know. Just warning you."

Draco nodded and began digging out his tools for the day. He hadn't worked on snitches in over a year, because they were relatively easy. He worked on specialized projects, like family clocks, timing devices, and helped the goblins at Gringotts with the vaults.

"Malfoy!" his boss barked from right behind him.

"Yes?" Draco turned to face the ill-tempered Yorin Romatsin. He wasn't as bad as Snape and Draco had lived with him for seven years.

"I need you to work on snitches. I had a whole shipment go bad. Not a one of them will fly. Damn apprentices."

"I have this clock due for the Cra—"

"Hang the damned clock! The snitches come first! I have ten thousand galleons riding on them and they have to be done by the end of next week!"

"Yes, sir," Draco nodded. It had not taken him long as an apprentice to realize who was in charge at the shop. He probably could have bought the shop and run it himself, but Draco liked the actual work of the shop. He didn't want to run things and worry about shit like bad snitch shipments. He'd much rather do his work for the day and go home. Davies handed him a sheet of gold and Draco began the opening charms to make wings for the snitches.

At lunchtime, the snitch he was working on blew up in his face. The scorch marks scrubbed off his face easily enough, his pride though was another matter.

Davies had giggled for almost a solid thirty minutes afterward and his boss had been less than pleased. Draco was in a right foul mood by the time the end of the day rolled around.

Banging the metal door from the shop to the alley shut behind him, Draco hopped onto his motorbike and started it with a roar. The only thing he wanted at the moment was a very large glass of Firewhisky and perhaps a book to lose himself in. He shuttled off down the street until he'd gained enough momentum to lift off and then took to the air, hitting the invisibility button at the same time.

The thirty-minute ride home was absolutely frigid and put Draco in an even worse mood. He stowed his motorbike and slammed his way into the house, cursing as he went. He tossed his sodding jacket onto a nearby sofa in the ground floor sitting room. Nott Park was as pretentious and elaborately decorated as Malfoy Manor and had Theo not had an army of house elves to keep the place in shape, surely Theo and Draco would have torn it to pieces by now. Draco was aware of his privilege and at the same time cared little for the trappings of his upbringing. He would have been happy in a tiny apartment in the city, but Theo had taken him in and now, a decade and a half later, Draco couldn't really even think about leaving. Besides, Nott Park had a Quidditch pitch for the few times that Draco was able to see Scorpius without Astoria or his parents watching his every move.

After pouring himself a Firewhisky so full it almost overflowed before Draco took a sip to stop it, he settled onto a sofa facing the fire and wallowed in his bad mood. It was a Thursday, which meant one more day of work for the week and then he'd have two blissful days off. Truthfully, he didn't _have_ to work. He enjoyed his work. Except for when he had days like he'd just had and Draco knew that if he didn't have anything to do all day, he'd have probably drank himself into an early death by now.

"There you are!" Theo said from the doorway of the sitting room. Draco acknowledged him with a slight nod to his head. He didn't bother turning to face his housemate. Instead, staring into the fire as if it held all the secrets in the world and if he just looked long enough, it might spit one out for him.

"Well, are you ready to go?" Theo asked as he entered the room properly and poured himself a drink. When he walked around the sofa to see the size of Draco's drink his eyes widened. "Merlin, liquid courage eh?"

"What are you blathering about?" Draco asked, finally turning his attention to Theo.

"The Halloween party tonight. At Blaise's new club? I think it's called like Club Liquid or something equally blasé."

"Oh, fuck. That's tonight?" Draco groaned. He set his drink on a side table and rubbed the gathering headache at his temples. "Don't suppose I can beg off? Feels like I've got a herd of hippogryphs dancing in my head."

"Nope! I secured your promise this morning. So you are stuck going. Toughen up, buttercup."

Draco sneered at Theo and took a swig of his Firewhisky.

"But because I'm the best friend you've ever had, I'll fetch some headache potion."

Theo trod from the room before calling for a house elf. Draco did appreciate that at least he'd waited until he was in the corridor to begin shouting. He sighed and finished his drink. Perhaps he could find someone to distract Theo and Draco could head home early without Theo finding out. It was at least worth a shot.

* * *

 ** _Chapter 3 - Promises Kept_**

* * *

 _October 31, 2024_

 _8.23 PM_

* * *

The club was hopping by the time Hermione had wound herself through Diagon Alley and to its location. Millie had left a black, engraved invitation for her which meant she was able to skip the line that snaked its way around the block. The bouncer looked her over once, confiscated the invitation and gestured for her to go inside. Hermione smiled tightly at him as she entered the dimly lit area. There was a smoke charm or two in place. Fog swirled around her ankles as she entered the deepening gloom. From what she could see of the place, it was packed. Everyone was in a costume, which made Hermione breathe a sigh of relief. Most of the people waiting to get into the club had also been in costume, but Hermione was still insecure enough to worry about whether she was wearing the right thing in a social situation she didn't feel comfortable in. And she definitely didn't feel comfortable in Zabini's club.

Millie dragged her out at least once a month to some function or other, but Hermione resisted as much as possible. Millie's friends weren't Hermione's friends, even after five years. The Slytherins still had a tendency to sneer at Hermione. A habit she found entirely off-putting.

As the fog cleared, Hermione could see that all the usual suspects were present. Blaise, dressed as a centaur perhaps, Hermione wasn't quite sure, was, of course, dancing in the middle of the dance floor with several very beautiful witches. And there was Millie, having spotted Hermione, weaving her way through the dances, dragging her giant of a boyfriend behind her. He wasn't really a giant, but he was easily the biggest wizard in the club. Daphne Warrington née Greengrass, dressed as a wood nymph, waved at Hermione from her spot on the dance floor, her husband grinding behind her. Daphne was one of the few of Millie's friends who was truly kind to Hermione. She waved back just as Millie and Marcus found her. They were in matching costumes of ancient Egyptian pharaohs.

"Alright, Granger?" Marcus asked, taking a swig from his drink.

Hermione smiled up at her roommate's longtime boyfriend and nodded. Marcus returned the smile and then left them to find someone more male to talk to. He kissed Millie's cheek as he took off and Millie sighed as she watched him go.

"You know that you could always fi—"

"Nobody is better than Marcus."

"Even if he won't ever propose?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not the marrying type," Millie snarked.

Hermione laughed. "Apparently me either."

They grinned at each other as Millie started directing them to the bar so Hermione could get a drink and Millie could refresh hers.

"Granger," a low, sly voice said from her right once they'd finally made it to the bar. Hermione turned to find the devilishly, handsome Adrian Pucey standing there dressed as a demon. Considering he was one of the leading criminal defense barristers in the whole of wizarding Britain it was quite fitting and Hermione couldn't have stopped the giggle if she'd tried.

"You like?"

Hermione laughed harder and Millie had to step in. "Buzz off, Pucey. She's still not interested."

"One of these days, Granger…" Pucey whispered in her ear as he took his drink and left the bar.

"Told you it would be all the same people," Hermione said. "I think I saw each of these people at the last Zabini club you dragged me to back in September."

"Merlin, Granger, lighten up," Marcus said as he joined them once more.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Marcus and ordered another drink from the bartender. It was getting warm in the club and she didn't want to ditch her leather jacket. "I'm going to find some air," she said to Millie.

Millie waved her hand, already wrapped up in whatever Marcus was whispering in her ear. Hermione sighed and went up to the balcony area. She'd spotted a smoker's deck as she approached the club and was pleased when she found that it was deserted. It was drizzling, so she cast an impervious charm above the deck, but not to the sides. She didn't fancy being trapped in with the inevitable cigarette smoke.

Hermione pulled the pack she'd slipped into her back pocket and shook a cigarette out. It was a nasty habit, but one Hermione couldn't seem to break. Especially when she was drinking. She lit the cigarette with the tip of her wand and inhaled deeply, reveling in the feel of the smoke in her lungs as she slowly let it out through her nose and took in the scene of the terminally wet London landscape before her.

* * *

 _October 31, 2024_

 _8.56 PM_

* * *

A wall of sound engulfed Draco and Theo as the doors to the club were opened by the bouncer and Theo led them in. Theo was practically bouncing on his feet as he led Draco to the bar. Draco hated clubs. They are too noisy, too hot, and there was always too many people. Even the witches in their skimpy costumes weren't much of a distraction for Draco. He followed Theo who procured drinks from the bartender and then wound his way through the dance floor to the VIP lounge on the other side of the club. Draco was pleased when he was able to sit down and just watch everything else. He really hated clubs. He'd never been that into them, even as a young man. Now in his mid-forties, they held no appeal at all. Blaise, however, didn't feel the same.

"You call that a costume?" Blaise asked, a slight pant in his breath as he eyed Draco over his drink. Blaise was dressed as a centaur, which meant he didn't have a shirt on. Draco wasn't even a little bit surprised, Blaise was always the provocateur of their group.

"I'm a biker," Draco said nonchalantly.

"How is that different than what you wear any other day?" Blaise demanded. "This is a _costume_ party. You need to be in costume."

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise's dramatics. Theo thought Draco was dramatic, but Draco had nothing on Blaise.

"Oh, stop it, Blaise," Theo said, sticking up for Draco. He raised his drink in thanks and looked back over the dancers writhing in the center of the club as Theo continued. "I got him out of the house, didn't I?"

Blaise scoffed and let the matter drop. Draco's jaw clenched at the reminder of his willingness to hermit himself away. The divorce had been miserable, the press after the divorce had been almost unbearable and Draco was still burned by it all these years later. He shuddered and stood from the low couch. He finished the rest of his drink and shook his empty glass at Theo and Blaise who had moved on to discussing which women were without dates for the evening.

After refreshing his drink at the bar, Draco headed to the second floor. He'd spotted a smoker's balcony and it had been empty when he walked in. It was fairly cold for late October, and he was hoping it was still going to be empty. He pushed open the door and came face to face with his past.

Hermione Granger, the one who got away, was leaning against the railing, taking in the view, and had a lit cigarette in her hand. Draco almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. Granger was too much of a goody-two-shoes to smoke, wasn't she? At least, she had been twenty-some years ago, the last time he'd seen her in a setting like this. He knew she lived with Millie and had for the last few years, but somehow they'd never run into each other.

She still hadn't turned around and Draco took in her costume. Granger looked damn good in all that leather encasing her still slim body. In fact, she looked fucking amazing. Draco hadn't let himself think about her in so long. But now that he was in her presence, all his thoughts and feelings from his second try at seventh year came flooding back to him.

"Hey Granger," Draco said in order to keep the memories at bay.

Granger whirled around, her eyes widened in surprise. For a moment she looked confused and then a megawatt smile broke out on her face. Draco's heart beat faster at seeing that look. She looked so incredibly pleased to see him that he couldn't help but to grin back at her.

"Draco!" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him in for a brief hug before releasing him. Draco got just a whiff of her shampoo, despite the cigarette still in her hands. It was the same she used back at Hogwarts and the memories that were threatening earlier come exploding over him. "I haven't seen you in ages!" Granger pulled back from him but kept her right hand on his arm. She brought the cigarette to her lips with her left and took a small drag, then put it out in a standing ashtray nearby.

"What are you doing here? I didn't think you were in the country? I hear _all_ about Scorpius from Rose. You must be so proud! Head boy! How have you been? What are you doing these days?" Hermione rambled.

Draco chuckled lowly. "Woah, Granger, calm down." He offered her a smirk. "Since when do you smoke?"

Granger laughed and looked a little sheepish. "Nasty habit I picked up during the divorce."

Draco nodded. He knew all about nasty habits picked up during divorces. It had taken him quite a few years to stop sleeping with anyone who looked at him twice.

Granger looked him over. "No costume?"

"I'm a biker," Draco said and pointed to his leather jacket.

"Right, you are a biker as much as I am a cat," Granger said and pointed to the small cat ears nestled into her frizzy mane.

"I was trying to figure out where the tail came in," Draco teased.

Granger laughed and rolled her eyes. "Millie picked it out and made me wear it on pain of death."

"That's right, you live with Millie now. How is that?"

"Millie is great, although if you'd have told my second-year self that I would be living with her, I would have hexed you."

Draco laughed. "Well, I think the same could be said for this conversation too, no?"

"I don't know," Granger said. "We got along pretty well that last year of school."

Draco smiled softly. "Yeah, I guess we did."

There was a pause in the conversation and Granger pulled another cigarette from her pack. She offered Draco one and he took it. She lit them both from the end of her wand.

"Can you believe all these people?" Hermione jerked her thumb to point to the inside of the club. "They're all acting like bloody teenagers."

"I never understood the obsession with dressing up for Halloween," Draco laughed.

Granger shrugged. "It's a Muggle thing, I guess."

They sat in silence for a moment, finishing their cigarettes. Draco then opened his mouth and said something that he didn't think he would have said if he had allowed himself to think about it at all.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

* * *

 _October 31, 2024_

 _10.04 PM_

* * *

Hermione couldn't quite believe that Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her after all of these years. For a long time, she wouldn't even let herself think about him. Then once she had Rose, it became easier because she had so many _other_ things to think about. Even when she realized that her marriage with Ron was dead, and she stayed with him despite everything for another three years, she didn't allow herself to think about Draco.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Draco asked.

"Sure," Hermione replied. She wasn't going to second guess herself tonight. She wasn't about to let whatever had been simmering between her and Draco all those years ago slip away a second time.

"I really am a biker," Draco said. "My motorbike is out front, but I'm sure I can lea—"

"Really? A motorbike? A Muggle one? I've never been on one." Hermione said, suddenly much more excited.

"Well… it has a few wizarding upgrades. Aunt 'Meda had been telling me about Sirius Black's, he was my cousin, you know, and I thought it sounded interesting so I bought one. It flies and has an invisibility button. Charmed it myself." Draco sounded so proud of himself that Hermione couldn't help but grin at him.

"I don't really like flying, but I definitely want to see this motorbike," Hermione told him.

"Let's go." Draco opened the door and a wave of music rolled out into the night air. He ushered her into the club and then grabbed her hand. He pulled her through the crowd until they were coughed back out the front door of the club. Once they were back outside, Draco made to drop her hand, but Hermione squeezed his hand and he looked down at her with a smirk.

A little over a block later and they came to Draco's motorbike. It was all black and chrome and it looked beautiful to Hermione. She had always sort of wanted a motorbike, but never felt brave enough to own one.

"So, where we going?" Draco asked lightly.

"Let's go to mine. It's not far. You won't have to fly," Hermione laughed. She also knew that Millie would be out for the night. She'd go back to Marcus' as she usually did when they went out together.

"Alright," Draco said agreeably. Hermione gave him some directions and Draco pulled two tiny helmets out of his jacket pocket, then swished his wand to make them full size. Hermione tucked her cat ears into her own jacket pocket as she tugged the helmet over her head.

"Ready?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded, feeling a little nervous.

Draco climbed onto the bike and gestured for Hermione to get on behind him. She did so and placed her hands on his waist to steady herself.

"Hold on tight," Draco said and jumped to start the bike. It roared to life beneath them and Hermione scooted a little closer to Draco, wrapping her arms more firmly around his midsection. He took off slowly down the street and the cold wind that rushed by felt refreshing to Hermione's heated skin.

* * *

It wasn't long before they were pulling up in front of Millie's townhouse. Hermione laughed thinking of the loud motorbike in their quiet little neighborhood. As Draco cut the engine he asked what the joke was and Hermione told him. He grinned in response and Hermione's heart fluttered.

She led him inside and offered tea. It felt like they were back at Hogwarts twenty-some years ago as they talked and laughed over tea. Draco had told her how a snitch had exploded in his face earlier in the day and Hermione was almost on the floor she was laughing so hard.

"Why did we stop talking?" Hermione asked after they'd both been silent for a moment.

Draco didn't quite meet her gaze and Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was trying to decide whether to be truthful to her or not. She reached across the table and grasped his hand.

"Because of Weasley," Draco said finally. Hermione wrinkled her brow and he continued. "Because I wanted you. Merlin, I wanted to ask you out at least a hundred times that last year. But you were with Weasley and I had spent my entire life being a completely selfish prick that I had made myself promise that I would _stop_ being so selfish. That I would let you be with Weasley because somehow I knew that you weren't going to be with him long. I figured you'd see him for what he was after a year or so and then…" Draco trailed off. He still wasn't looking at Hermione. "I just didn't want to be a selfish prick anymore," he said softly.

Hermione sighed and scooted her chair closer to Draco's. "I probably should have broken up with him sooner than I did. But I don't regret my children. I… I wish I would have known this then. Maybe it would have been different."

"Maybe." Draco sounded sullen. Hermione was afraid that he might get up and leave. So she did something she'd been thinking about most of the night. She put her hand on his cheek, making him face her. Then she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Draco inhaled deeply and, for a moment, Hermione was afraid that she had misread the signals. But then his hands were on her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and Hermione couldn't quite keep the moan from spilling out of her throat. Draco groaned in response and soon their hands were everywhere, ripping and pulling at clothes, each desperate to get the other one naked first.

Hermione's tight, leather ensemble was almost entirely impossible for Draco to maneuver her out of without her help. So she lifted her arms as he pulled the vest above her head and shimmied to get the trousers off. Draco's own t-shirt and jeans were a breeze by comparison and soon Hermione was perched on the edge of her and Millie's kitchen table, while Draco kneeled between her thighs and licked her from arse to clit.

"Fuck, Draco!" she shouted and clasped his head as he began working his fingers inside her. He was driving her higher and higher and it wasn't long before she fell off the cliff and into a blissful pool of pleasure.

"Draco," she whined again as he stood and placed soft kisses against her neck.

"Granger," Draco grunted as she reached a hand down and began sliding it up and down his hard length. Merlin, she couldn't wait for that cock to be buried inside her.

"Draco, please," Hermione said again, wiggling her hips.

"Tell me what you want. Tell me you need this," Draco panted into her neck.

"Merlin, yes. Draco fuck me! Please!"

Draco shuddered and then helped her line himself up. As he sank into her, Hermione tossed her head back. That first initial thrust had always been the best part of sex. The first thrust, filling her up always served to start an earth-shattering climax. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers so she could kiss him. She tried to tell him everything he needed to hear in that kiss.

"Fuck, Granger," Draco stuttered as he began to move inside her. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight."

Hermione arched her back at his words and Draco dropped his head, sucking one nipple into his mouth. It was exactly what Hermione needed to send her over the edge once again.

"Draco!" she gasped and her entire body tightened around him as wave after wave of pleasure carried her off.

Draco didn't last much longer after that before he was grunting out his pleasure. When it was over they both didn't move for a moment, their breath intermingling. Draco tilted his head a bit and pressed his lips to hers once more. Hermione relished the kiss. It felt like promises kept. It felt like the future.


	7. Case A7B432

**A/N: Written for the Dramione Fanfiction Forum's Halloween 2018 competition.**

 **The theme for this competition was the board game Clue/Cluedo. My prompt was Official Halloween 2018 writing competition for the Facebook group Dramione Fanfiction Forum. The theme for this competition is the classic board game Clue/Cluedo.**

 **My prompt was: When Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint are gruesomely murdered in a short period of time using muggle means, their friends and associates are contacted by the ministry as possible targets. Harry and Hermione are the Aurors assigned to protect Draco.**

 **Thanks to my beta RachealLA26 for her help on this project. The nickname The Bolt for Kingsley Shacklebolt is not my creation, sekdaniels is the mastermind behind that.**

 **Somehow this story one Overall Favorite and Best Smut in the competition and I couldn't be more surprised or pleased. Hopefully, you enjoy it as much as the folks who voted on it did.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, please drop a review and let me know about it! Find the manip for this story on my Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: When Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint are murdered, their friends and associates are contacted by the Ministry as possible targets. Draco Malfoy chooses Hermione Granger as his Auror protector, and as more people die, Draco and Hermione must race to figure out who the killer is, even if it means putting their lives at risk.**

* * *

 **Case A7B432**

* * *

 _October 1, 2008_

* * *

Arterial blood sprayed violently across the brick wall of the dingy alley as the knife came down again and again and again.

"...stop…" Marcus Flint groaned. "I'm…dead...sto…" Marcus Flint said no more.

The murderer dropped the knife as they surveyed their work. Flint was as dead as Zabini had been three weeks ago. After a quick look around to ensure nobody spotted them, the murderer dropped a feather and Apparated from the scene.

* * *

 _October 6, 2008_

* * *

Draco Malfoy grimaced as he watched Marcus Flint's casket levitate into the Flint family crypt. Marcus was the last of the Flint's and his holdings would now be split up among his heirs. But Marcus didn't have any heirs. His mother was a Selwyn and his grandmother was a Fawley. The Fawley and Selwyn families would either fight over the holdings or the Ministry would take them. Draco felt sick at the thought. It was the second funeral he'd attended in as many months. He was too young to be attending this many funerals.

Blaise Zabini had been beaten to death with a fucking candlestick of all things, the month before. The Aurors, led by the insufferable Potter, knew nothing, of course. But Draco knew. Whoever it was, they were going after Death Eaters and sympathizers. It was vigilante justice. As much as Draco wanted to save his own skin, he was the most prominent Death Eater of his generation. He almost hoped he was going to be next. Maybe then his conscience wouldn't prick at him.

He tossed his cigarette to the side and turned away from the scene. Not many had shown up for Marcus' funeral, but Draco vowed to go to them all. Until he was killed, of course.

* * *

 _October 9, 2008_

* * *

Draco rolled over, shoving the pillow over his head, but it didn't stop the incessant tapping at his window. He groaned as he sat up; at least the weather matched his mood. The owl tapping at his window looked properly pissed off with the rain beating down on it. Draco grabbed his wand from the nightstand and flicked it, opening the window. The owl looked at him balefully as it swooped inside and landed on his lap, holding out its leg. Draco untied the scroll and the owl left through the open window.

 _Mr Malfoy,_

 _Due to recent events, we ask that you attend a meeting with the Aurory. Please arrive on Friday at eleven in the morning. Failure to show up will result in an automatic detention in Azkaban._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Kingsley Shacklebolt_

 _Head Auror_

 _Fuck_. Draco crumpled the piece of paper in his hand and rolled back over onto his stomach. He'd deal with this later, at a more reasonable hour.

* * *

 _October 10, 2008_

* * *

The following morning found Draco strolling through the Ministry on his way to level two and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was surprised when he entered the conference room the meeting was being held in to see several other Slytherins his age there. He had half expected that he was being called in because he was a suspect, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Good, you're here. We can begin." Potter nodded at him. Draco took a seat and glanced around the room. There were ten former Slytherins and just as many Aurors, standing along the walls. Potter began explaining the situation as the Auror department saw it and Draco could see where this was going.

"You'll each be assigned an Auror for your protec—"

"I want Granger," Draco interrupted. Granger glanced at him with a startled look on her face, before she covered it with a look of mild disdain.

"You don't get to choose, Malfoy," Potter sighed.

"Don't care. I get Granger or I refuse protection." Draco wanted the best and, out of all the Auror's present, Granger was _clearly_ the best. Although, this feeling itself was at odds with how weary he was and how he'd lived longer than expected already. Since Blaise and Marcus' deaths, he'd assumed he would be dying soon anyway. It's not like he did anything more than rattle around the very empty Malfoy Manor.

Potter made more noises of dissent, but Granger cut him off. "It's fine, Harry," Granger said quietly. "I can cover Malfoy."

It was Draco's turn to peer at her with interest. She seemed… different than how he remembered her. Less bossy, although he was sure she was still swotty. She eyed him with cool indifference before turning her attention back to Harry as he passed out the rest of the assignments. Draco couldn't keep his eyes off her for the rest of the meeting.

* * *

 _October 13, 2008_

* * *

"No! Don't! Please don't! I'll do anything!" Astoria Greengrass screamed as the man in all black moved closer to her.

"Too late," he rasped, tossing the length of rope around her neck. A flick of his wand and the rope hauled itself over the exposed pipe above her.

Astoria kicked her dangling legs and clawed at the rope around her neck, desperate to get it off, to take a breath of air, but nothing she did worked. She stopped breathing, slowly turning purple and then blue as her air supply was cut off. Her body hung limply from the rope around her neck.

The killer took one last look at her before dropping the worn coin on the ground at her feet and Apparating away.

* * *

 _October 14, 2008_

* * *

"Let's go, Malfoy. Up and at 'em," a cheery voice greeted him. Draco groaned and rolled over, then flung a hand across his face when he realized his bedroom curtains had been flung wide open.

"Go 'way," he muttered, burrowing back into his pillow.

"Nope, I've got to get to the Ministry. So you do too," Granger said, pulling the sheets from him. He heard her gasp and could imagine the bright red flush she would have. He peaked and his suspicions were confirmed, she'd turned away from his nude body.

"See something you like, Granger?" Draco drawled.

"Put some bloody clothes on, Malfoy," she hissed and stalked toward the door. "I expect you downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Draco chuckled and sat up. He'd given Granger a room in Malfoy Manor the day before as his protector; he snorted at the thought. Malfoy Manor was so big that even though she was just next door to him, they were still separated by three rooms. He dragged himself out of bed to get ready for the day. He had no objections to following Granger around, it's not like he had anything better to do. And the view wasn't half bad either. Somehow, Granger had managed to tame her hair. It was still curly and wild, but less bushy. Although, she rarely wore it down these days.

* * *

The Auror bullpen Granger led Draco through was in chaos. Aurors, secretaries, and other Ministry workers Draco couldn't identify were shouting loudly. At least twenty different conversations were taking place. People were running in and out of the aisles and parchment airplane memos were zooming around above their heads. Granger led the way through the maze to a large conference room in the back. It was a different one than the other day. This one had boxes and boxes of documents and parchments and photos stuck to all of the walls. There was even some string tying the documents and photos on the walls together. Draco couldn't make sense of any of it.

"Mind the mess," Granger muttered as she shouldered open the door, and a box of parchment threatened to tumble over.

Looking around, Draco surmised that this was the war room for the investigation into the dead Slytherins. "Do you have a name for the case?" he asked suddenly as he realized he was just lumping all the people into the same old Hogwarts house and how lame was that? They were more than Slytherins, weren't they?

Granger gave him a strange look. "The _Daily Prophet_ has called him the Faceless Murderer, but we're just calling it case A7B432."

"That's a terrible name." Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Which one?" Granger deadpanned before turning away from him to address Potter.

After a moment, Draco realized someone was shouting nearby. It was different shouting to what he'd heard in the bullpen. It almost sounded as if someone was getting reamed out. He strained his ears, trying to drown out Potter and Granger's low conversation to hear what was being said.

"...incompetence Fincher! Another dead…" the voices were muffled by something heavy slamming down onto a desk or filing cabinet.

"...my fault," a meek voice said. "Slipped my—"

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, giving him a funny look again. Draco gazed at her, trying to decipher it, but wasn't able to.

He turned back around to her just before the door burst open and Kingsley Shacklebolt came through it, followed by someone Draco didn't recognize.

"Fincher is on desk duty until further notice," Shacklebolt snapped. "There's been another murder." He tossed a thick file onto the table and left.

"Fuck," Granger hissed, picking up the file.

"Who is it?" Draco asked.

"Should he be here?" The Auror Draco didn't recognize asked, pointing at Draco. Fincher, Draco assumed.

"He's my assignee," Granger muttered. "Unlike you, I want mine to live through this mess."

"Who. Is. It?" Draco asked again, his anger rising as they were ignoring him.

"Astoria Greengrass," Potter replied, taking the parchment from Granger when she was done with it.

"Fuck," Draco murmured and sat hard in his chair. He'd always liked Astoria, she was bright and funny. He couldn't believe she was dead. He caught a photo that had fallen out of the file and stared at it. There was a pair of feet encased in black, shiny high heels swinging in a slight breeze. Beneath them an old worn coin.

"Do you have any leads?" Draco asked, unable to tear his eyes from the chilling photograph.

"No," Potter snapped. "No fucking leads. No fucking clues." He slammed the parchment he was holding back on the table and Draco realized that was the sound he had heard earlier, during the argument that must have been between Shacklebolt and the tosser sitting next to him. Draco curled his lip at Fincher.

"What was left at Blaise and Marcus' crime scenes?" Draco asked.

"Nothing but the murder weapon," Granger replied as she slowly sank into a seat, going through everything in the file a second time.

"Really? There wasn't a trinket?" Draco asked.

"What are you getting at?" Potter said, finally looking up at Draco.

Draco pulled the photo of the coin out of the stack Granger was sifting through and showed it to Potter and Granger.

"That looks like a trinket. It looks like either a calling card or a clue. Are you sure nothing was left at Marcus or Blaise's crime scenes?"

Granger grew still as she looked at the photo and Draco watched the blood drain out of her face.

"Harry! The Flint and Zabini files, quickly!"

Potter looked as alarmed as she did and dug through the boxes at the end of the room. He found the photographs from both cases and then spread them out along the table. They were much more gruesome since Blaise had been beaten to death and Marcus stabbed.

"Is that..." Granger asked, pointing to what looked like some sort of feather in a congealed pool of blood. Draco could just make out Marcus' hand at the edge of the photograph.

"A goshawk feather," Draco said grimly.

"Astor is goshawk in Old Provençal," Granger replied quietly. Draco nodded. He knew.

"He's leaving a clue to the next person!" Potter shouted. He began flipping through Blaise's photographs. Blaise's scene was worse than Marcus'. With Marcus there was just a lot of blood; Blaise's body was mutilated by the beating he took. Draco grimaced as he looked at the photographs, he wasn't sure his stomach could handle this as it threatened to revolt, violently.

"There!" Granger shouted, pointing at a photo. Draco looked closely, another clue dropped in a pool of blood. This one, a piece of… rock?

"Flint," Granger said. "The killer dropped a piece of flint, indicating Marcus Flint."

Draco had a sudden brainwave, he pulled out the photograph of Astoria again. "I know who will be next."

* * *

 _Meanwhile…_

* * *

Adrian Pucey hated Knockturn Alley, he hated more that his so-called 'protector' had left him here. He snorted as he hurried through the alley, he just needed one thing from a somewhat shady buyer and the Auror who was supposed to be protecting him balked. It wasn't even illegal, just a little shady. Adrian really wanted to be out of Knockturn and back in the company of his protector as soon as possible. He was entirely creeped out about the murders that had been happening. Poor little Astoria Greengrass had got it just last night.

A loud sound like a firecracker burst out from right behind Adrian and he fell face first onto the paving stones.

Before Apparating away, the murderer dropped a tiny tin toy soldier onto Adrian's back.

* * *

"You should at least contact the Auror assigned to him, Granger!" Draco shouted. "Was the coin collected in evidence? The photograph is hard to tell, but I guarantee you it's a Hadrian coin.

"You don't know that! It could be anything!" Granger said. "I'll go down to the crime laboratory to see if the coin is there. There's no guarantee though."

"Let's go then," Draco said as he pushed away from the table and stood.

"No, you aren't going," Granger said and stood as well. "You stay here with Harr—" Granger stopped speaking when a loud argument broke out in the bullpen.

"The Bolt's really giving it to someone," Harry murmured and opened the door quietly.

"Fuck," Fincher muttered. "Someone else must have died."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"That's the same voice he reamed me with."

"More incompetence! He's escalating! Dawlish, I thought you were better than that," Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice boomed around the room as he got closer.

"Oh, fuck," Granger moaned and dropped her head into her hands.

"What?" Potter hissed.

"Malfoy was right. Dawlish was assigned to Adrian Pucey," Granger whispered just as Shacklebolt burst into the room.

"Potter, Granger there's a crime scene in Knockturn Alley that could use your expertise. Pucey's dead."

Draco felt sick to his stomach. There had been three weeks between Blaise and Marcus. Almost two weeks between Marcus and Astoria. Now the day after Astoria had been murdered, Adrian was dead. The killer _was_ escalating.

"I'm coming with you," Draco said and stood up.

Granger looked like she was going to argue for a moment but then nodded. "Just stay out of the way. Don't contaminate the scene." Draco nodded his agreement and Granger led them back out through the bullpen and to the Auror Apparition room.

* * *

The scene in Knockturn Alley wasn't as bad as Draco had been fearing. Adrian was dead, face down on the cobblestones as a pool of blood spread beneath him, but he wasn't beaten or stabbed to death. Rather, there was a small hole in the back of his head, near his right ear.

"What's that?" Draco asked pointing to it.

Granger sucked in a sharp breath. "How would the killer have gotten a gun? A handgun at that. They are highly regulated in the Muggle world."

"What's a gun?" Draco asked.

"Murder device," Potter grunted. "Not good for anything but murder. Generally, it's hard to get a handgun in the UK. Long guns used for hunting are a little more common."

"Muggles make things just for murder?" Draco asked. He was horrified. He knew Muggles were uncouth, but that just—

"Oh, stop it. You think a wand is any better? It's all about the intention," Granger snapped at him. "Now stay back, so Harry and I can process the scene."

Draco leaned against the wall about ten meters from where Granger, Potter, and the other Aurors were working. He dug into his cloak for his pack of cigarettes. Ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking, he got his cigarette lit and watched as the Aurors photographed everything first, then slowly sifted through everything laying on the ground near Adrian's body, even the items that looked like rubbish, and placing them into small clear vials.

Granger levitated something off of Adrian's back, she peered at it closely before placing it in a vial. Draco wondered if that was the clue for who would be hit next. He hoped it wasn't him. The longer he went without being killed, the more he wanted to stay alive. And then there was the way that Granger looked at him and the way the light shone through her hair intrigued Draco. He was attracted to her. She was still whip-smart, which was always a positive in Draco's book, but he couldn't deny that it was her looks that had drawn him in. Her brown eyes were often warm when they looked his way, and when she threw off her robes after working for several hours, Draco found he couldn't keep his eyes off her curvy body. He'd often wondered in the last few days what she looked like without her clothes on.

A crack of Apparition sounded, breaking Draco from his reverie. The team from St Mungo's had arrived.

Granger met back up with him and Apparated them both back to the Ministry. It was only about dinner time, but Draco felt like he'd been awake for days. So much had happened.

They returned to the small conference room and Draco asked to look at the pictures. Potter looked like he wanted to argue, but Granger passed the folder over.

"He figured out the clues, Harry," she told Potter with a small shrug.

The top picture was of Adrian's back. He was wearing a dark colored cloak and Draco could just make out the shine of some trinket on the back.

"Did you get a closer look at this?" Draco asked, pointing out the shine to Granger.

Granger smirked at him and flicked her wand. A vial holding a tin soldier flew from the evidence trunk they had brought back with them.

"A soldier?" Draco pondered who would be next based on that clue. Some of the clues had been easy: flint for Marcus Flint, a Hadrian coin for Adrian Pucey. But the goshawk feather for Astoria, that one was pretty obscure. This looked like another obscure one.

"Who else are the Aurors protecting?" Draco asked, looking up at Granger. She was staring at him again with that look on her face that Draco couldn't identify.

Potter looked at him incredulously. "You were at the meeting, Malfoy. Don't you recall who else was in the room?"

Malfoy felt himself flush and he looked down at his hands. He didn't recall who else was in the room because he'd spent the entirety of the meeting staring at Granger. Merlin, this little crush was going to get him in trouble. If he didn't want to die, he'd have to put it out of his mind for the time being.

"Oh, hush, Harry," Granger scolded Potter lightly. "Let's see there was Miles Bletchley, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, I'm missing someone."

"Tracey Davis and Gregory Goyle," Harry supplied.

"Do any of those names mean something like soldier?" Draco asked.

Potter shook his head while Granger's face scrunched like she was deep in thought. Draco thought she looked adorable. And then felt immediately horrified at the thought. Adorable? Since when did Draco ever find anything adorable? Crup puppies were adorable. Kneazle kittens were adorable. Grangers were not adorable. Sexy maybe but not adorable.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face as he tried to shake the thought loose from his head.

"I don't think we're getting anything more done today," Granger finally said with a sigh. "The Bolt's sent out a memo reminding everyone on the protection teams of their assignments. So we should call it a night and hope for the best. Where's Nott?"

"Theo?" Draco asked.

"My assignee," Potter responded. He looked kind of funny, weirdly flushed. "Nott's at Grimmauld. We made a deal, he had run of the house, as long as he didn't leave."

Granger nodded but didn't say anything as she began packing up some of the files.

"I think we should stay at your flat," Draco said, gauging Granger's reaction. He wasn't disappointed, she stiffened and reddened and Draco couldn't stop the smirk from creeping onto his face.

"Er, what's wrong with Malfoy Manor?" Granger asked.

Draco shrugged. "It's too big. The wards haven't been right since the war. If whoever is next is too well protected, they might try for me at the Manor."

"I don't think my flat is appropriate," Granger muttered.

"Why not? Potter's got Theo at his house."

"It's too small," Granger said. "I live in a studio. Do you know what that means?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not an idiot. I do know what a studio is."

"Good, well you'll realize that means you can't stay there. There's nowhere for you to sleep."

Potter coughed awkwardly. "Uh, 'night 'Mione. Owl me if you need anything." Then he slipped out the door. Draco and Granger were alone in the conference room.

"Well, I don't think the Manor is safe enough. _You're_ the protector, shouldn't you provide the place for me to be protected?"

Granger groaned and ran her hands through her hair, lacing her fingers behind her head. "So you are either consenting to sleep on the floor or armchair or requiring that I sleep there?"

Draco grinned and shrugged. "Let's just go and scope the place out. Maybe we'll come to some other… conclusion."

Granger narrowed her eyes at him and then immediately yawned. "Fine, let's go."

* * *

Granger wasn't wrong, her flat was incredibly small and Draco had lied, he wasn't entirely sure what a studio was, but now he did. Granger lived in one room. Sure there was a separate room for the bathroom, but the kitchen, living, and sleeping area was one room.

"I think your bedroom at the Manor is larger than this," Draco grunted as he slowly spun around taking in the space.

Granger flushed and Draco smirked again. He liked making her flush, he idly wondered what else he could do to make her flush.

"I told you it wasn't big," Granger snapped. "I don't even have a sofa."

Draco shrugged. He didn't plan on Granger or himself sleeping on the sofa. She was standing awkwardly near the kitchen as if she planned on offering him a drink but was waffling about the decision. Draco took two steps and he was in front of her. A third step and she had backed into the small worktop.

"I don't think we'll need the sofa," Draco muttered as he leaned his face down close to hers. Granger's breath hitched and she turned her face up to meet him. Draco paused for a moment, watching her small pink tongue dart out to lick her lip and felt his trousers tighten at the sight. All day, he felt like Granger had been teasing him, and he'd been thinking about the taste of her lips for at least three hours.

He leaned a little closer, bumping her nose with his and Granger's eyes slipped closed. Draco smirked and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. They were soft as heat exploded through him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. It was like that one touch was all that was needed to set off the fireworks that had been sparking between them.

Granger's arms wound around his neck, pulling him down more firmly to her and he grasped her waist, hoisting her up to sit on the worktop behind her. She immediately opened her legs and Draco stepped between them. He'd been right in his earlier musings, Granger's curvy body was a perfect fit for his. He dragged his lips away from hers and kissed down to her jawline and up to her ear.

"Malfoy," Granger moaned as he nipped at her earlobe.

"It's Draco," he whispered hotly into her ear and she squirmed, pressing her center more firmly against where his cock was straining to be released from his trousers.

Granger pushed at his outer robes and Draco shrugged them off. They landed at his feet with a soft whump and Granger began attacking the buttons of his shirt.

Draco smoothed his hands over Granger's shoulders and kissed down along her neck. "I'm going to fuck you, Granger. You alright with that?"

Granger moaned and her movements became faster. "Yes," she hissed when he pinched her nipple through her robes. He dug his wand out of his pocket and flicked it so that they were both naked. He was pleased when Granger gasped. He grabbed her under her thighs and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist and the feeling of her hot cunt pulsing against his cock was almost more than he could take. Granger ground herself against him as he moved across the small space to the bed in the corner.

"Fuck, Granger," Draco gasped when she arched in his arms and cried out. He must have hit her clit with his cock based on her reaction and he flexed his hips again and again as her pussy dripped her arousal all over him.

Granger bit her lip and looked up at him as he slowly laid her down on the bed. Quickly crawling over her, Granger opened her legs to allow him to settle between them. He ran his hands down her body, tweaking her nipples as he went.

"Fucking gorgeous," he groaned as he leaned down to take one of her peaks into his mouth. Granger's back arched off the bed and she groaned loudly. One of her hands delved through his hair, holding him in place.

"Feels so fucking good," Granger moaned and Draco slipped on hand down to her clit. Granger hissed as his finger made contact and he began softly swirling it around her hard nub. Granger bucked and keened beneath him and Draco found himself smirking around her nipple. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips into the bed below to try and get some friction.

Granger shattered around him when he slipped a finger inside her tight channel. It was the hottest thing Draco had ever seen and he almost came at the sight.

"Please," Granger begged when she was finally back down to earth. Draco took that for the permission it was and buried himself inside her warm body. His eyes rolled back in his head as her cunt gripped his cock. She pulsed around him and Draco fought to keep from climaxing. This wasn't going to be a one-time thing, at least he didn't want it to be. And if he wanted to do this again, he'd have to blow Granger's metaphorical socks off.

"Draco," Granger groaned and Draco had to start moving. He placed his forearms on either side of her head and stretched out on top of her. The feeling of her skin against his was divine. He pressed his lips to hers as the heat built between them. It wasn't long before Granger was crying out beneath him, falling apart as he drove into her over and over again. Draco wondered if she could come again. Then he realized he'd lied to Granger. He'd told her he was going to fuck her, but this was absolutely not fucking. It was much closer to making love. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes, smoothing some of the hair away from her face as he continued pumping his hips.

"Please, Draco," Granger whispered as she panted, her cunt was gripping his cock rhythmically and Draco knew she was close again. He found he wanted to sear himself into her skin so that she would never forget him. Never forget this. He pressed his lips to hers again as he started moving faster and faster. His balls tightened and he leaned his forehead against hers as his climax swept over his body and he emptied his seed inside her.

Their breath mingled as they panted and came down from their respective highs.

"That was…" Draco trailed off, opening his eyes and finding her watching him already.

"Amazing," Granger answered and quirked her lips. Draco grinned back and she pressed her lips to his before he rolled to the side. Granger settled herself around him with her head on his chest an arm across his waist and one of her legs nestled between his. Draco had to admit that it felt really good to have her wrapped around him like this and it didn't take him nearly as long as he thought it would to fall asleep.

* * *

 _October 15, 2008_

* * *

Miles Bletchley slipped out of his own Manor house. He hated skulking around, but he also was desperate to see his boyfriend. His Muggle boyfriend. The one none of his wizarding friends knew about, not even his Auror protector, who was still sound asleep inside the house. Miles pulled his hood up over his hair right after appearing in Diagon Alley. He was lucky his boyfriend lived so close to the Leaky Cauldron. Even luckier that the Leaky Cauldron was essentially open at all hours. He slipped through Diagon Alley, making his way toward the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron when he was stopped. Someone dressed in all black with some sort of black mask over their face was blocking his way.

"Pardon me, mate," Miles muttered and tried to edge around the figure.

"Not today," the man grunted and Miles coughed as something hit his chest.

He coughed again and realized that there was a metallic taste in his mouth; he spit and blood hit the cobblestones.

Glancing down, Miles realized where all the pain was coming from. Some sort of pipe was sticking out of the middle of his chest. He fell first to his knees, then onto his side as more and more of his blood escaped his body.

"Why?" Miles gasped as he caught sight of his murderers eyes. The murderer shrugged and dropped something before him. Miles focussed on it as the last breaths left his body. He wished he could warn the person who was next.

* * *

"Get up, 'Mione! We got another one!" Potter's voice rang through the small flat and Draco sat up suddenly and looked around blearily. A small wisp of a Patronus was just fading.

"Was that Harry?" Granger moaned from underneath a pillow.

"Yeah," Draco replied and began rooting about the side of the bed for his clothes. He needed a cigarette if he was going to have to see another of his friends dead today.

Granger groaned wordlessly and flung an arm out, hitting Draco's lower back. She began rubbing it and Draco leaned into the sensation. They hadn't talked about what happened between them, but Granger had allowed it to happen twice more in the middle of the night.

"I need a shower," Granger stated as she slowly sat up. The bed was in a corner of the room, so she scooted around to his side and leaned against him as he sorted through their clothes. Granger yawned and Draco wished he could drag her back to bed.

She either knew what he was thinking or accurately deciphered the look on his face. "We don't have time," she murmured and placed a soft kiss on his lips, before standing.

"I could join you in the shower?" Draco offered with a small half-smile.

Granger laughed. "Come see the shower and then decide."

Draco's small smile broke out into a full grin as he followed her across the space to the bathroom. The bathroom was tiny and the shower stall looked like it was barely big enough to fit Granger, let alone a second person.

"We might need to make a pit stop at the Manor," Draco commented as Granger turned on the water. "Not sure that thing is big enough for me." He eyed the low shower head. "Or tall enough."

"No time if there's another body," Granger reminded him.

Draco groaned and left her to it, deciding to settle for a Scourgify bath. It would have to do until that evening.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Draco and Granger were making their way inside the Auror bullpen to the conference room and they could hear Shacklebolt yelling at someone else.

"No idea why The Bolt thinks that's necessary," Hermione muttered. "Probably feels bad enough as it is."

Draco didn't comment, just held the door open for her. Potter, Fincher, and Dawlish were all in the room already. Nott must have elected to stay home again. Draco almost wished he had done the same, but he felt like Potter and Granger weren't going to solve this thing without him.

"You're not going to like this, Hermione," Potter stated. He tossed something at Granger and she caught it one-handed. She gasped as she peered into the small glass vial and Draco felt his stomach sink. He didn't even have to look to know what was in that vial.

"It's me, isn't it?"

Potter nodded grimly and Granger turned her back to the room. Draco gritted his teeth, knowing she was upset, but not sure how she was planning to play the development of their relationship with her coworkers. He didn't want to embarrass her.

"Well, glad I got Granger then," Draco said finally. "She's the best. Won't let me out of her sight."

Granger laughed wetly and Draco smirked. Mission somewhat accomplished.

"There've been too many deaths," Potter began. "We can't keep going like this. We have no leads and we can't afford to protect everyone 24/7. We're not even doing that good of a job!" Harry said.

"Who was it?" Draco asked.

"Miles Bletchley," Fincher replied.

"Miles in Latin is soldier," Granger said bleakly. "How?"

"It's weird, a sharpened lead pipe of all things," Potter said shaking his head. Granger's brow furrowed as she took in that information.

Draco looked at the vial in Granger's hand and could just make out the wings of a tiny toy dragon. So he was definitely next. He took in Granger's countenance for a moment thinking about everything that had happened over the last few days. He'd begun this assuming he'd be dead soon and now he found every reason in the world to live was standing next to him.

"So what's your plan, Potter?" Draco asked.

Potter grimaced. "Hermione, you aren't going to like this…"

"Just tell us." Granger gritted her teeth.

"We should set a trap for the killer. Put Malfoy somewhere visible, Knockturn Alley maybe? Fill the alley with Polyjuiced Aurors and just wait. The perpetrator is definitely increasing, he's like going into berserker mode in that video game Ron likes."

"You're right, I don't like it. Not only that, I won't allow it," Granger hissed.

"Now, hold on a momen—" Draco began but shut his mouth with Granger whirled on him.

"No! It's my duty to protect you, and I can't do that if we're setting you up for bait! I won't have your death on my hands."

"I'm afraid that the decision isn't up to you, Hermione," Shacklebolt said from the open conference room door. Draco could see the disgraced Auror Shacklebolt had just been reprimanding lurking behind the large man. "We can't afford another death. We look fucking incompetent and I won't have it."

"Kings, just give me more time. I promise, I'll figure this out," Granger pleaded and Draco felt bad for her, but he agreed with Potter and Shacklebolt. Drawing the murderer out was the only way to prevent more deaths. And Draco didn't want to die, not anymore.

"No, Hermione. That's the final word. Harry, get working on whatever we need to get this up and running. Call in as many Aurors as you think are necessary." Shacklebolt turned to go and Granger darted out after him, still pleading her case.

Draco took a seat at the table and began going through the evidence they had on Miles. Maybe if they found something prior to the sting operation, then they wouldn't have to go through with it.

"You sure you're alright with this, Malfoy?" Potter asked.

Draco lifted his eyebrow. "Since when do you care so much about my well being Potter?"

"Hermione seems to care quite a bit," Potter said lightly. Draco kept his face impassive. Potter didn't know anything. "Any idea why that would be?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter," Draco commented. He turned back to the photos of Miles, attempting to ignore Potter.

"Are we really letting him…" Dawlish whispered to Potter. Draco stiffened, but Potter came to his defense.

"He figured out the trinket thing."

Draco couldn't stop the smirk from forming on his face but wiped it a moment later when Granger came back into the room.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" she said tightly, her eyes on Draco.

Draco nodded and stood from the table, following Granger back out into the bullpen. She shoved open a door and pushed Draco inside. They were in a small conference room, not meant to hold more than two or three people.

"I can't believe you are alright with this!" Granger shouted at him.

"Woah, calm down," Draco said, placing his hands on her waist. He backed her into the wall and put his forehead against hers. "It's less that I'm alright with this and more that I want this bastard caught and in Azkaban before someone else dies."

"I don't want _you_ to die," Granger whispered, her lips so close to his that Draco could almost taste them.

"I _won't_ ," Draco promised, pressing his lips to hers. Granger moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

"Better not," Granger threatened when she pulled away. Draco smirked at her as she pushed him away and led him back to the conference room to plan the trap.

* * *

A few hours later and Draco was strolling along the dark streets of Knockturn Alley. There were twenty Aurors present in the alley in a variety of disguises. A few dressed as shopkeepers—the shopkeepers themselves pressed into silence by the Auror Department—others as patrons of the alley, and others still as warlocks or hags.

Granger had set up an ingenious charm that worked similar to Muggle radios. Draco had an earpiece in and a small button on the sleeve of his cloak that he could talk into.

"See anything?" Granger asked in his ear. Draco didn't even know who she was Polyjuiced as. He didn't know who any of them were, in order to keep the charade as authentic as possible. Draco brought his hand to his face, pretending to scratch his nose.

"Not yet," he breathed into the button on his cuff.

Silence from the earpiece. They were trying to keep communication as quiet as possible. They had no idea on who the killer was, but the thought was that he lived near Diagon or Knockturn Alley as every single murder had happened here.

Draco paused to look in the grimy window of Borgin and Burkes when something hit him on the back of the head.

He fell hard to his knees and just barely managed to get his wrist up to his face and clue Granger in to his whereabouts before the second blow came. He got his arm up in time to block it, but the instrument being used to hit him clanged heavily on his forearm and Draco heard a crack. He was sure the arm was broken in at least one place. He whirled as hard as he could and tackled his attacker at the knees.

The attacker went down hard and dropped his weapon, some sort of metal object that he didn't recognize. Draco staggered to his feet just as half a dozen Aurors came rushing around the corner with their wands blazing.

"Draco!" Granger screamed and he staggered toward her. Something was dripping in his eye and he brushed it away. His hand came back bloody. He stumbled another step and fell to his knees once more as Granger rushed to him, propping him up. "Hang on," she muttered and Draco nodded, but put his forehead against her abdomen. He closed his eyes just for a moment.

* * *

Draco came to lying on a soft bed in a room filled with bright lights. He squinted and realized he must be in St Mungo's. Draco lifted his hand and prodded the lumpy shape on the bed next to him. His vision was somewhat blurry and it wasn't until his hand was deep into Granger's curls that he realized that lump was Granger's head.

"Mmm, feels nice," Granger murmured as Draco ran his short nails over her scalp.

"Did we get him?" Draco asked.

Granger sat up and Draco could tell she'd been crying.

"What is it?"

"We got him," Granger whispered.

"Who was it?" Draco felt his heart beat faster when tears began streaming down Granger's cheeks. "Hey, come here." Draco patted the bed and Granger scrambled up from the chair she was sitting on to curl into Draco's side on the bed. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, burrowing her head into his chest for a moment. Draco wrapped his arms around her, running a hand up and down her back.

"It was Ron."

"Weasley? Weasley was the mastermind? I didn't think he was smart enough to find his own way out of a paper bag," Draco scoffed.

Granger snorted. "Well, it was him. Caught him red-handed. I sort of suspected actually—"

"Since when?" Draco asked incredulously. "Why didn't you go after him before if you though—"

"Since this morning," Granger said grimly. "It was the thing Harry said about Ron's video game. Going into berserker mode? And then all the murder weapons were from Ron's favorite Muggle board game, Cluedo. I wish I would have made the connection earlier. I _should_ have made the connection earlier."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it," Draco said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you'd let a murderer go free even if he was your friend."

"Ron and I haven't been friendly for a while. He's the reason I'm an Auror and I actually hate being an Auror," Granger said.

"What? But you're so good at it."

Granger shrugged. "When Ron quit, Kings was short staffed and bullied me to leave desk work for fieldwork. Maybe after this, I can convince Kings to let me go back to it."

Draco held her tightly for a moment and placed a kiss on top of her head. He was a little surprised when the door to the room opened and Potter stepped in.

"I knew it," Potter said with a smirk.

"Shut up," Granger grumbled. "You're fucking Nott, so you don't get to say anything about this."

"I am—"

"You are?" Draco asked Potter with interest.

Potter sighed. "Fine, yes, Theo and I are… I don't know. Sleeping together I guess."

"Fucking," Granger supplied. "It's fine, Harry."

"Right." Potter looked embarrassed and Draco couldn't stop smirking at him.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, finally looking up from Draco's chest.

"Came to offer Malfoy a job."

"A what?" Draco asked. He'd suffered quite the head wound and was sure he'd heard Potter wrong.

Potter shrugged. "He's a damn good Auror; doesn't mind field work, smart, can handle a sting operation and still help take down a suspect with a bloody head wound. He'd probably be one of the best Aurors we got. And it would get you back on desk duty if you wanted it, Hermione."

Draco lifted an eyebrow, he didn't know what to say.

"Just think about it," Potter said. "Glad to see you awake, Malfoy." Then Potter left.

Granger turned back to him. "Do you think you'll take the job?"

"What's the department regulation on fraternizing with your coworkers?" Draco asked as he leaned in closer to Granger.

"I'm sure we could figure something out," Granger murmured and closed the distance. Draco cupped her face gently and deepened the kiss. He hoped they could work something out. He had a feeling Granger wouldn't care for a boyfriend who didn't do anything with his days.


	8. Ravishing

**A/N: This was written in response to a prompt for A Death Eater Christmas hosted by the Death Eater Groupies FB group. I had attempted to write something fun, and not rated M, and well, my muse chose differently. So enjoy the fun, rated M romp below.**

 **No beta, just Grammarly. All other mistakes are mine. See the aesthetic that inspired this on my FB Shan Crochetaway or my Tumblr crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Thorfinn Rowle**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione and Finn spend their first Christmas together.**

* * *

 **Ravishing**

* * *

Hermione knew she shouldn't be nervous. She and Finn had bonded quite a bit in the last three months, but still, it was their first Christmas together. Period. Yes, it was their first as a married couple, but it was also their first in general. The marriage law that had pushed them together hadn't allowed for long engagements.

The holidays had always been hard for Hermione and she hadn't exactly opened up to Finn about what exactly went down between her and her parents. On some level, it felt like treachery to tell a Death Eater, however reformed, that she'd hidden her parents away. She _knew_ that Finn would never do anything to hurt them. He'd become the biggest cuddler to Crookshanks, after all. But still, the threat of his Dark Mark hung over their relationship. More for Hermione than Finn, she was sure.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione opened the door to Rowle Rock.

"I'm home!" she shouted. Finn had decided against taking a formal job. He'd spent a few weeks at the Ministry, getting sneered at and spit upon before he decided that he'd find something else. Now he worked as a private curse-breaker for Malfoy Industries. Hermione was just happy he didn't have to deal with the public. He was much happier for it. Although, his weeks at the Ministry were how they'd met and Hermione couldn't regret those either.

"We're in here, little witch," Finn called. Hermione knew where 'here' was: the library. Finn hadn't seemed like the type to read much, but Hermione had been surprised the first time she'd seen the library at Rowle Rock. It was quite large, and Finn had surprised her further by telling her that he'd added most of the newer texts. Even now, he was bent over a somewhat dusty tome. Crookshanks was curled around the side of the book on top of the desk, and Finn had a hand behind the cat's head, scratching his ears.

"Hey, love," Hermione said, leaning against the doorway. Their Christmas tree lit up one corner of the library and it just added to the heartwarming scene before her.

"Come here," Finn said without looking up from his book.

Hermione rolled her eyes, he was almost as bad as she was with books. She went to him and squeaked with surprise when he turned to her and hauled her into his lap. She straddled his waist as he pulled her close, burying his face into her hair.

"Missed you," Finn rumbled.

Hermione snorted. "I've been gone six hours."

"Still," Finn said, planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Mmm, that's nice," Hermione said as he began kissing along her throat. Her hands were draped around his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair. She loved his wild hair, it was almost as insane as hers.

Finn made his way down to the front of her throat and she giggled when his beard tickled.

"I'll give you something to giggle about," Finn said, pressing his fingers into her ribs.

"Finn!" Hermione laughed, tossing her head back as he tickled her.

Dimly, she heard Crookshanks snort and jump off the desk. Then Finn was moving the book he'd been reading and settling Hermione on the edge of the desk. He pushed her robes from her shoulders and began untucking her shirt from her skirt.

"Finn," Hermione groaned. She pushed his hands away. "We have to wrap presents, remember? Harry and Ginny's tomorrow."

"It'll wait," Finn said as he stood from his chair and pressed a kiss to her lips. Hermione decided that fighting him was futile. She'd much rather let him do to her what he wanted. Soon her shirt was off, her bra was pushed down with her breasts lying on top of it, and her skirt pushed up to her waist. Finn stepped back, looking at her for a moment.

"I love it when you look debauched," he murmured.

Hermione blushed and looked away. Prior to Finn, she hadn't spent much of her time dating, preferring to work on her career instead. Compliments from him still had the power to make her feel slightly embarrassed.

"It's not a bad thing," Finn insisted, reaching a hand out to cup her face. "It's fucking sexy," he breathed against her lips. Hermione moaned and arched her back, pushing herself close enough to kiss him. He held the back of her head, directing the kiss, as his other hand trailed from her breasts and down to her legs. He ran it along the inside of first one thigh and then the other, missing her core entirely. Hermione found herself trying to scoot forward, widening her legs, attempting to get him to touch her where she _burned_ for him.

"Please," she begged finally.

"That's what I was waiting for," Finn murmured against her ear. His breath hot as it stirred the small hairs there. Hermione broke out in gooseflesh as his fingers finally found her soaked core. Finn pushed her knickers to the side as he stroked her nether lips. Then he parted them and slipped a finger just inside her entrance.

Hermione arched her back, pushing her hips forward, begging with her body for him to touch her deeper. She ached for him and was desperate for his touch.

When Finn didn't move his hand deeper, Hermione gripped his wrist and attempted to move it for him. Finn chuckled, deep in his chest.

"Don't make me tie you up, Hermione," he grunted as he slid his finger deeper into her.

"I just needed more," Hermione hissed. Finn gathered first one of her hands, placing it on the desk behind her, then he put the other one behind her as well and gave her a small push. She fell back onto her elbows, opening her body up to him completely.

"You just need to enjoy," Finn said. He curled his fingers inside of her and Hermione's eyes rolled back as her hips bucked forward. He hadn't even touched her clit and she was about to come. If nothing else, she and Finn were extremely sexually compatible.

"Finn," Hermione gasped as he finally circled her clit with his thumb. "Please! I want to come with you inside me."

Finn groaned, dropping his head to her stomach and pressing a kiss there.

"You truly are going to be the death of me, little witch," Finn growled. Hermione smirked but was unsurprised when Finn released his cock and slid through her folds. She gasped as he settled inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began a steady stroke.

"Finn," Hermione moaned, arching her back again. Finn leaned over her, placing a hand on the desk near hers. Hermione grasped his forearms as he dropped his face to her breast. He licked her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. A shot of desire slid through her, igniting her core. "Oh, Merlin!"

Finn pulled off her nipple with a small pop. "Just Finn, love," he murmured into her skin as he kissed the valley between her breasts and then gave her other nipple the same treatment as the first.

"I'm going to come," Hermione groaned, squeezing his forearms as her entire body tensed with the need to climax.

"Then come," Finn growled, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust of his hips.

Hermione did, a scream tumbling out of her lips as her entire body clenched. Pleasure rolled through her, wave after wave of it and Finn wasn't long to follow her over the edge. He collapsed into his chair and Hermione fell back to lay flat on the desk.

"Well," Finn sighed.

Hermione snorted. "You know, we could probably accomplish a lot if you didn't ravish me every time I walked in the door."

"But you like the ravishing," Finn retorted. He ran both hands up her calves and Hermione sighed. It felt heavenly.

"Mmm, I do," she agreed. Perhaps their first Christmas together wouldn't be so bad. Especially, if he kept doing what he was doing with his fingers right now.

"Finn!" Hermione gasped.


	9. Santa for a Cause

**A/N: Written for Strictly Dramione's Yuletide Magic Fest! Many thanks to the lovely GaeilgeRua for beta'ing this piece for me!**

 **My prompt was: Draco plays Santa Claus. What will Hermione do to get off the naughty list? *SMUT***

 **If you loved it (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review!**

 **Find me on FB as Shan Crochetaway or Tumblr as crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Word Count: 4308**

 **Summary: Hermione Granger manipulates Draco Malfoy into playing Santa Claus. What will Hermione do to get off Santa's naughty list?**

* * *

 **Santa for a Cause**

* * *

 _December 9, 2009_

 _2.47 PM_

* * *

Hermione Granger could not believe that this was happening right now. Somehow, Draco Malfoy, of all people, had pulled the short straw and was being made to play Santa Clause for their department's holiday charity event at St Mungo's ward for children. It was fascinating to watch the emotions play across his face, and yet, it felt like righteous retribution for every nasty thing he'd ever said about any of her pet causes.

"You did this, didn't you?" Harry Potter asked as he watched the rest of the Aurors either clap Malfoy on the back or snigger at him behind their hands.

Hermione slowly shook her head. "I wish I had, to be honest. But nope, this was pure luck."

Harry snickered. "Good. If anyone deserves it, it's him."

Hermione couldn't agree more. She couldn't wait to see perfectly coiffed Malfoy dressed as Santa Clause. Even better when he found out he had to sit and listen to what every child in St Mungo's wanted for Christmas. Hermione was practically gleeful as she left work that day. Two weeks, and she'd get to see her childhood bully humiliated. She couldn't wait.

* * *

 _December 14, 2009_

 _10.22 AM_

* * *

"I know it was you," Malfoy hissed from behind her as Hermione fixed her tea at the trolley outside the Auror bullpen.

"What was me?" she played dumb. She knew what he was talking about, but since it really wasn't her, just dumb luck on Malfoy's part, she decided to fuck with him some more.

"You charmed the straws or something," Malfoy said. Hermione finally turned around to face him and was shocked to see how close he was standing to her. She stumbled when she tried to back up and found the trolley at her back.

One of Malfoy's hands shot out to cup her elbow to steady her and Hermione pretended that the spark of his hand on her person didn't actually happen. How inconvenient. She tamped down her ridiculous crush on the man in front of her. She hated the fact that he looked good, and since she was so close, smelled good. Merlin, she needed to get away from him.

"I'm afraid I really have no idea what you are talking about," Hermione said. She took a step to her left, to walk around him, but Malfoy mirrored her movements.

"I think you _do_ know what I'm talking about, Granger. You put me up to dressing up as that ridiculous character, Santa Claus. What is that even?"

Hermione's lips twitched, of course, Malfoy had no idea what Santa Clause was. Even better. "He's a Muggle Christmas tradition," Hermione began. "He brings—"

Malfoy held up a hand to stop her. "I don't need the details. Just know, that I'm onto you, Granger."

"Right," Hermione nodded, and stepped to her left once more, this time Malfoy allowed her to pass.

Hermione took a deep breath and wobbled a bit on her heels as she made her way back to her desk. She really hadn't charmed the straws, but she couldn't deny the fact that she was taking quite a bit of pleasure in Malfoy's plight.

* * *

 _December 18, 2009_

 _1.03 PM_

* * *

"How's the Santa Clause thing going?" Zacharias Smith giggled as he set his tray down at the table in the Ministry cafeteria that Hermione was sharing with Harry and Malfoy. For some reason, Harry and Malfoy were friends, and Hermione couldn't quite figure it out. She avoided Malfoy's company when she could, but had promised to eat with Harry today.

"Brilliant," Malfoy glowered. "Actually, the research hasn't been bad. Granger's been helping me." Malfoy smirked at her. Hermione glared back, she had done no such thing. She was just about to open her mouth and tell him such when Malfoy began speaking again. "In fact, Granger has offered to be my elf on the day of the charity event."

"You did?" Harry asked with some surprise next to her. "That's wonderful, 'Mione! The children will totally get a kick out of that."

"What a great idea," Smith said. There were nods all around the table, and Hermione turned a frosty glare to Malfoy.

"Well, I offered, but Malf—"

"Gladly accepted, of course. Who better to help coach me in the ways of the Muggle Santa Clause than a Muggle-born? Granger's been great, actually."

Hermione felt her blood boil. Why on earth was he doing this to her? She hated these charity events, he knew that. Dawning realisation hit her. Of course, he knew that. That's why he was doing this because he hated them too. What a prick.

She picked at her salad and barely listened as the conversation moved on around her. She'd have to figure out a way to get out of this. She wasn't dressing up as a bloody elf. Not over her dead body.

* * *

 _December 21, 2009_

 _3.36 PM_

* * *

"Come on, the damned thing is in two days, Granger. We have to coordinate our costumes," Malfoy said. He was standing over Hermione's desk, begging her to come with him to the Muggle world to pick out his Santa costume.

"You'll never find one this late in the season," Hermione shook her head. "You should have tried to procure one much earlier."

"Well, you need a costume too," Malfoy reminded her.

"Only because you forced my hand! I hate these bloody things."

"Same." Malfoy smirked. "So, let's hate it together, yeah?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll help you. But only because I don't want to be blamed when you show up looking like a tosser."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Granger. Let's go."

Hermione gathered her cloak and handbag and followed Malfoy out of the DMLE and toward the lift. She guided him to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, and they escaped into the Muggle world.

"Well, where to?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hailed a taxi. There was a costuming store near her parent's old house, she'd try there first. Maybe they'd have something. If not, she planned to find a fabric store, and one of the household charms books Molly had given her over the years. Malfoy eyed the taxi with disdain and Hermione grinned brilliantly at him. Maybe dragging Malfoy around the Muggle world would be fun.

In the end, the costume store did not have any Santa or elf costumes available for rent. The saleslady had rolled her eyes hard when Malfoy had pompously strode up to her counter and asked. Hermione barely kept her giggles from escaping and led him a few doors down to the fabric store. She'd chosen the appropriate fabrics and trimmings and shuffled Malfoy back into a taxi to her flat.

"How do I know you _won't_ make me look ridiculous, Granger?" Malfoy pouted when Hermione had shown him her fireplace and told him in no uncertain terms was he to stay.

"Because you've told everyone I'll help you! Really put the screws to me, you know? Not going to risk everyone being irritated with me because you look stupid. Don't worry, I grew up Muggle, I know all about Santa. It'll be fine."

"If you say so," Malfoy said giving her a dark look.

"I do. Now go so I can get to work. I'll bring your costume to work in two days."

The actual assembly wasn't terribly difficult, but Hermione suspected if had she had to go about it the Muggle way she'd have _much_ more trouble.

* * *

 _December 23, 2009_

 _2.57 PM_

* * *

"I look stupid!" Malfoy hissed as he adjusted the pillow Hermione had shoved into the coat of his costume.

"You look like Santa Claus," Hermione assured him. "The kids will love it."

"You look hot," Malfoy commented as he eyed her in the mirror she had charmed to show him his costume all put together.

Hermione blushed, she truly hadn't set out to make a _sexy_ elf costume, but she'd used a little too much of the fabric making sure Malfoy's costume was baggy enough for the pillow padding that she hadn't left enough for herself.

"That's beside the point," Hermione scolded him. "You are about to be around children."

"Yeah, that's an arousal killer," Malfoy grimaced, and Hermione chuckled. She tapped her wand to his chin, casting a hair growth charm and then a hair colouration charm to make everything a bright white. Malfoy grimaced at his appearance, but Hermione rather thought it didn't take anything away from his good looks.

"Alright, let's go, everyone is waiting on us. Do you remember your lines?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Ho, ho, ho! Happy Christmas! Were you a good boy or girl this year? What would you like for Christmas?" Malfoy rattled them all off.

"Good, here we go now," Hermione said, shoving him out of the small patient room they had co-opted for this purpose. The rest of the DMLE department was waiting for him, and Malfoy earned cheers and whistles as he made his appearance. Hermione attempted to hide behind him as much as possible, hoping nobody would notice how embarrassingly skimpy her outfit seemed to be.

"Looking good, Granger," Zacharias smirked at her. Malfoy stiffened in front of her and glared at the other wizard. Hermione looked at them both in confusion. She had no idea what that was about.

"Come on, the kids are waiting." Hermione prodded Malfoy forward.

* * *

 _December 23, 2009_

 _7.33 PM_

* * *

Hermione was exhausted. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and Malfoy wasn't looking much better. He was sagging in the chair they'd given him, and Hermione had been resentful for at least the last hour and a half that he got a chair when she didn't. Hermione helped each of the children get into Malfoy's lap, took their photo, chatting with their parents, and then moved them along when it was time. She was dead tired and ready to go home and have a nice long soak in her tub when the last child had finally made it through.

Somehow, word had gotten out, and it seemed every employee of St Mungo's had brought their children through the line at some point as well. They'd had a break about halfway through, but nothing since then.

"Alright, Granger. That's it, I'm done," Malfoy said standing from his chair. "Let's go."

The rest of their department had left hours ago, so it was just Malfoy and Hermione as they made their way out of the hospital.

"Where we going?" Hermione asked. She half-hoped he'd say back to his place and half-hoped he'd want to part ways. Watching Malfoy patiently ask each child what they wanted for Christmas and smile at them had been… surprising. Almost heart-meltingly arousing and it had Hermione looking at him through new eyes.

"I'm starving," Malfoy said.

"There's a great curry shop near mine," Hermione offered.

"Sold."

Hermione looped his arm through hers, and they Apparated from the lobby of the hospital and into the foyer of her apartment building. Malfoy ditched the beard and white hair before they left the confines of the building and Hermione was relieved to see him looking like himself again, even if he was still wearing all the padding required to look the part of Santa.

They made the short walk to the curry shop, talking as they did. Malfoy was on a fascinating case regarding illegal potions brewing and smuggling. They garnered a few looks from the Muggles as they entered the shop and ordered their take away.

Hermione led Malfoy back to her flat and up the three flights of stairs to her unit on the top floor.

Malfoy hadn't said a word in a few minutes, and Hermione wondered what he was thinking as she led him inside.

"I'm going to change," Hermione said, but before she could take a step, Malfoy had grabbed her wrist, holding her into place.

"Not yet," Malfoy said. His eyes were suddenly like molten pools of silver, and Hermione felt her nipples tighten in response to the look he was giving her. "I rather like this look on you, Granger." He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her bun behind her ear.

"Alright," Hermione acquiesced. Although she did attempt to tug her skirt down for the hundredth time that day.

Malfoy nodded and released her. Hermione took a deep breath and moved to her kitchen, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. She pulled down a few plates and began dishing up the curry.

The tension that seemed to have filled the space between them a few moments ago eased during dinner as they began discussing one of Hermione's current cases. It wasn't nearly as interesting as Malfoy's illegal potions, but it was proving mildly challenging, so she didn't mind hashing things out with him to see if he could provide a new perspective.

Once they were finished eating, Hermione cleaned their plates up and turned to offer Malfoy a drink when he was suddenly in the doorway of her kitchen, almost filling it entirely.

"You scared me." Hermione grinned at him a little breathless. At some point, Malfoy had removed his pillow padding, and the Santa suit hung off of him.

"Are you ready to be removed from the naughty list, Granger?"

"What… I don't know what you're talking about?" Hermione shook her head, genuinely confused.

"You've teased me all day in that itsy-bitsy skirt, Granger," Malfoy said advancing on her. Hermione stepped back and found her back to the worktop behind her. Then Malfoy dropped the bombshell. "And I _know_ you charmed the straw."

Hermione tried to not look guilty, but she was sure some guilt was showing on her face because Malfoy immediately looked triumphant. "I knew it!"

"Technically, I only charmed the straw to choose the unlikeliest of winners," Hermione hedged. She tried to move to her left, to get around Malfoy but he stepped so close that he put a hand on the worktop on either side of her to cage her in.

"And how exactly is it you plan to get off the naughty list, Granger? Santa won't bring you anything good for Christmas if you don't get yourself on the nice list," Malfoy breathed into her ear. Hermione shivered. She rather liked this game they were playing.

"I'm sure I can think of something, Santa," she murmured placing her hands on his chest and slowly unbuttoning his coat.

"I like where you're going with this," Malfoy hissed as she was able to finally place her hands on the skin of his chest. The coat still hung from his shoulders and Hermione thought he looked sexy as hell. She ran her hands over his firm chest and down the defined ridges of his stomach. She'd always known Malfoy was good looking, but he was like some sort of carved statue and Hermione loved it. When she reached the top of his trousers, she skimmed her fingers just inside the waistband of his pants underneath and was pleased when his breath hitched.

"Granger," he groaned into her ear, planting a kiss just beneath it.

"Hermione," she said.

"Hermione," he repeated.

"Oh, I like how you say that," Hermione said. Arousal swooped through her at the sound of her name on his lips.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he repeated, kissing down the column of her neck between each utterance. If Hermione hadn't been wet before, by now, she surely was. She tipped her head back, allowing him the access he needed to continue kissing from her neck, down her chest to where the tops of her breasts peeked out from her elf costume.

"And the elf costume?" Malfoy asked as he placed his hands on her hips, pushing his hardness into her belly.

"Not technically part of my scheme," Hermione groaned. "Just… ran out of fabric," she panted.

"Do you care about it?" Malfoy asked. He lifted his head and raised one perfectly pale eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head, confusion creasing her brow and Malfoy smirked at her.

"Good," he said, then placed his hands at the neckline of her shirt and ripped it in two. He untucked it from the short circle skirt and pushed it from her shoulders.

"Well, that's just wasteful," Hermione complained, but then couldn't think when Malfoy lifted her breasts in both hands. Placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss over one of her nipples. Then he blew on the wet fabric and Hermione's peaked nipple hardened further. "Malfoy," she groaned, and held his head to her chest, encouraging him.

"Draco," he murmured.

"Draco!" she screamed when he bit lightly on her nipple. Somehow her left leg had wrapped itself around Malfoy's hip. He was too tall, his cock stayed firmly in the area of her belly, and she groaned in frustration when she had nothing to rub against her centre.

"Where's the bedroom?" Malfoy asked, pulling back entirely. He looked completely debauched, and Hermione loved that look on him. She grabbed his hand and led him to the back of her flat and her bedroom. Thank Merlin, she'd remembered to make the bed that morning. Once inside the room, she pushed the Santa coat from Malfoy's shoulders and then dragged him forward to lay on top of her on the bed. He settled his knees between her legs, and she tore off her bra. Malfoy made a feast of her breasts and Hermione felt like she could come if he'd just apply the tiniest bit of pressure against her clit.

"Draco," she whined when he pulled from her nipples. He sat back on his knees taking in the sight of her sprawled on the bed. She was sure she looked a mess, but Malfoy seemed to like what he saw because he smirked at her.

He unzipped the side zip of her skirt and began pulling it and her tights off. Hermione helped by raising her hips, and she groaned when he dropped the suspenders from his shoulders, and his baggy Santa trousers fell to the floor. She still had her lacy thong on, but Malfoy slipped out of his pants and was finally, gloriously naked in front of her.

"You're fucking perfect," she muttered. And he was, he looked like a damned statue standing in her bedroom.

He chuckled. "Not so bad, yourself, Granger."

Hermione sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him on top of her once more. She kissed him then, wrapping her legs around his hips and couldn't stop from bucking against his cock as it finally, finally, provided the pressure she needed on her clit. She arched her back into the feeling, willing him to do it again. Malfoy pulled away from the kiss and began kissing down the length of Hermione's body.

"Who knew you were hiding this underneath those dowdy Ministry robes," Malfoy groaned as he reached her breasts again. Hermione threaded her hands through his hair to encourage him to spend some time there. She'd always loved having her nipples licked and sucked.

"Not that hot," Hermione complained. She meant it two ways: she didn't think that she was that hot and him talking about how dowdy he thought she was, wasn't really a turn on.

"Sorry," Malfoy said, she could feel his smirk as he buried his face between her breasts, pushing them together and inhaling. He thumbed her nipples at the same time, and Hermione found her hips bucking in need, but there wasn't anything there to provide pressure against her centre. She positively ached for _something_. Malfoy must have known because he left her breasts with a small sigh and a kiss to each tip before kissing and licking his way down to her core.

He licked her right up the slit through her lace thong and Hermione bucked her hips in response. Then he blew on the already wet fabric, and Hermione was keening.

"Please, Malfoy, please," she begged. Malfoy slid her knickers to the side and buried his face in her cunt, licking her opening. He held her hips down, to keep her from bucking him off the bed and Hermione clutched the sheets tightly as he teased her.

"I need…" she trailed off when he began sucking her clit. It wasn't long that her orgasm washed over her. She screamed incoherently, and as she settled back down, Malfoy slipped her knickers down her hips and off entirely.

Then he settled his face back between her thighs again.

"Malfoy," Hermione groaned. "I can't. I need…"

"It's Draco," he reminded her. "And I think you can."

She probably could, but she was so damn sensitive. He slid two fingers inside her and curled them as he sucked on her clit once more, and Hermione hurtled off the edge of her orgasm so fast that she was afraid her arched back would break in two. She screamed his name through it, and when she had finally calmed down, Malfoy was covering her body with his own, his hips settled into hers and his cock so naked against her cunt. Her pussy throbbed in time with her heartbeat and despite the rapid-fire orgasms, she wanted a third. She wanted to come around his cock.

"Draco," she groaned as he kissed her neck. "Please."

"Please what, Hermione? Tell me what you want?"

"I want you to fuck me. I want to come on your cock," Hermione groaned as he finally slid through her folds and entered her.

"Good, that's what I want too," Malfoy murmured. Then he rolled them, and Hermione found herself sprawled on his chest.

She pressed her hands into his chest and resettled herself so she was straddling his hips. She sat up tall on him and rolled her hips. Malfoy flexed his hips and gripped hers tightly, helping push her down onto him more firmly.

"So fucking tight," Malfoy murmured as she rolled her hips again. She clenched her inner muscles, and Malfoy arched his back, every tendon in his neck standing out as Hermione rode him.

"Like this?" Hermione hummed, running her hands up and down his chest.

"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned when she tweaked one of his nipples. "You're fucking perfect. Never felt a cunt as warm and tight. Never want to leave it."

Hermione liked being playful in bed, but the stream of consciousness that was pouring from Malfoy's mouth was the hottest thing she'd ever heard. Her nipples tightened further, and she sped up her rocking.

Malfoy groaned and broke off his litany.

"Keep going," Hermione panted.

Malfoy chuckled. "Knew you'd like dirty talk," Malfoy looked smug, so Hermione squeezed her inner muscles again.

"Merlin," Malfoy murmured. He lifted his legs and Hermione fell so she was sprawled across his chest again. His thighs were pressed into her arse, and she had to move differently. It made his cock hit that magic spot at the front of her pussy that she could never get on her own. "You look so fucking sexy right now," Malfoy groaned against her lips.

Hermione kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth to taste him. Malfoy flexed his hips, disrupting their kiss, then rolling them over once more.

"I have to fuck you now," Malfoy said, unapologetically. Hermione moaned her response and Malfoy kneeled so he could lift her left leg over his shoulder. He pressed in close, and Hermione groaned at the new, deeper angle.

"Fucking yes," she groaned, trying to pull him closer with her hands on his arms and shoulders.

"You feel so fucking good like this," Malfoy hissed. "I love seeing you wrapped around my cock."

Hermione felt her nipples tighten at his words and she moaned, trying to urge him on. His movements were slow and steady, and she wanted fast and hard.

"Harder, Draco, please," Hermione begged.

Malfoy dropped his head to her breasts, kissing them both before increasing his speed, pounding into her. Hermione held on, wrapping her right leg around his and meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Gonna need you to come for me, Hermione," Malfoy murmured.

Hermione nodded and slipped one hand between them. Malfoy's hips were pistoning at lightning speed, and Hermione only had to brush her clit a handful of times before she was exploding into little bits of light.

"Draco!" she shouted as her muscles clamped down so beautifully on his cock that she thought she might weep from how good it felt.

"Fucking hell, Granger," Malfoy grunted, rocking his hips. Still moving, but barely. His jaw was clenched, and every tendon on his upper body stood out as she squeezed around him. Finally, her orgasm began to ebb, and he could move again. He hammered into her half a dozen times before coming with a shout of her name. He collapsed on top of her and Hermione relished the weight of his body on hers.

"That's the sexiest thing you've said all night," Hermione murmured, shocked at how husky she sounded.

Malfoy's chuckle was deep and caused Hermione to shiver hearing it. She loved his deep, smooth voice.

"Liked that, did you?" Malfoy asked. His head was pillowed on her breasts, and he reached his tongue out to taste her skin. Hermione moaned at the sight and feeling of that tongue on her. Merlin, she could get used to this.

"It was adequate," Hermione replied.

"Adequate? Granger, I gave you three orgasms. Are you telling me someone has me beat?"

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "I don't kiss and tell, Malfoy. You'll have to keep trying."

Instead of answering, Malfoy leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth. He sucked it hard and Hermione couldn't stop her hips from bucking into his.

"I think that can be arranged," he murmured as he kissed along the valley between her breasts.

 _~Fin~_


	10. Fool Witch

**A/N: Thanks to my beta's GaeilgeRua and Rachael for their time and attention on this piece! This was written for the Slytherin Cabal's Twistmas fest! My prompt was sharing body heat.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **W/C: 10,493**

 **Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione Granger stumbles upon Severus Snape one terrifying night in the Forbidden Forest. She thought he was dead. He saved her life that night. She can't get enough. Neither can he.**

* * *

 **Fool Witch**

* * *

 _December 2009_

* * *

Hermione shivered again. She should get back inside, she knew, but she was so close to the spot Luna had described seeing the wild aconite. And it was a full moon. She just wished she was closer to civilisation so that once she'd collected everything, she could get back in a hurry. The problem? She hadn't thought ahead to secure a portkey back to Hogsmeade. And having helped reset the wards after the final battle all those years ago, she knew that she was within the anti-Apparition wards that surrounded the castle and grounds. The Forbidden Forest was a large place, and Hogwarts had always included it in its wards.

Stumbling into a snowbank, Hermione cursed as she picked herself up. Why had she decided on December to come out here and do this? It probably could have waited until March. She could have tested other components of the improved version of Wolfsbane she was working on until the weather warmed up. _Aconite picked in the dead of winter yields the best results_ , the voice of Professor Snape drawled in her head.

Hermione huffed, she knew her old Potions professor was right. It's why she was out here in December, instead of waiting until March. Ridiculous the whole thing. Sometimes the magical world's arcane rules drove her batty. Even if they were logical, it was still annoying. Sighing, Hermione picked her way through the clearing she found herself in. She consulted the map Luna had drawn for her once more and found she should be less than a mile from where the large patch of wild aconite was growing. Luna hadn't been out here since the summer, so Hermione hoped that it was still there and that some rampaging animal hadn't destroyed it or something. She did think it unlikely, but that was Hermione's luck these days.

Continuing through the snow, Hermione considered whether completing this potion would actually end up doing anybody any good. All she wanted was a potion that would allow a werewolf to live a normal life. One in which they were safe to be around others, and had way fewer side-effects than the current version of Wolfsbane. When she'd mentioned the potion to her boss, he had laughed and told her not to waste Ministry hours on it. But Hermione felt like she owed it to the Remus Lupin's of the world to at least _try_.

It took another twenty minutes, but finally, Hermione spotted the large plot of wild aconite. It was almost a quarter of an acre. More than Hermione needed and she set to work gathering as much as she thought she would need and then a little extra to be safe. After an hour spent gathering what she needed, Hermione realised that the cold that was now seeping through her boots and gloves was getting quite dangerous indeed. She needed to get indoors as quickly as possible. Scotland in the dead of winter could be deadly, and Hermione had been outside for almost six hours at this point. It would take at least another three to get back to Hogwarts and four to go the other direction and head for Hogsmeade. Why hadn't she brought a Portkey? Or even a broom would be faster. Shivering Hermione began making for Hogwarts as quickly as possible. Surely, the Headmistress or Hagrid would let her kip for the night if needed. Or at least until she warmed up.

Hermione had only been walking for half an hour when she realised she'd passed that clearing already. Her head felt a little fuzzy from the cold, and she desperately wanted to curl up somewhere and go to sleep but knew that would likely lead to her death. She slapped herself on the cheek, trying to keep herself awake, but also stay calm enough to pull out Luna's map and figure out where she was. The moment the map was out of her pocket, the wind tore it from her hands, and it floated up above the treeline.

"F-Fuck." Hermione's teeth chattered. Wrapping her arms around herself, she pulled out her wand and cast a Point Me spell, but her wand spun uselessly in her hand. Point Me's hadn't worked at Hogwarts since the Final Battle. Nobody knew why, something to do with the fresh wards perhaps?

"Shit, fuck, damn," Hermione cursed under her breath and looked up at the sky above. Clouds scudded across the stars, obscuring them. Hermione could make out the moon, settling on the horizon, which meant it was about to get very dark indeed.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart as she figured out what to do. She could make a fire and hunker down until morning, but a fire may draw the wrong kind of attention. She was still in the Forbidden Forest after all, and though she was far from both the centaurs and the acromantulas, Hermione wasn't convinced that lighting a fire wouldn't draw them out.

Suddenly, she heard something crashing through the Forest behind her. She spun around, trying to spot whatever it was, but couldn't. It was apparent she couldn't stay here. When she heard a howl, she knew she couldn't stay. Headmistress McGonagall had assured Hermione that there weren't any werewolves in the Forest, the only creature that Hermione was truly terrified to run into, but that didn't mean that there weren't actual wolves.

Hermione began moving as quickly as possible in the direction she hoped and prayed that Hogwarts was in. When the movement behind increased to running, Hermione took off in a blind panic, running as fast as her legs would take her. Whatever it was that was behind her was coming on quick, and Hermione's breathing was coming in short gasps, her breath fogging the air before her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted as she dodged around trees. She tripped over a snow-covered log, and her panic turned to sheer terror when whatever was following her landed heavily on top of her. It thumped and knocked the wind out of her. Hermione was sure she cracked a rib. She rolled, trying to dislodge the wolf, slicing her fingers on his sharp fangs as she pushed his face away from her throat. A flash of red light from the left blinded her and the wolf, and then wolf fell off of her with a whimper.

Hermione stumbled to her feet to see the wolf was Stunned, she turned to see who was there and her heart stopped. Professor Snape. Dead Professor Snape. She'd seen him die. But here he was, standing in the Forbidden Forest with a cloak made out of some sort of animal fur around his shoulders. His hair hung down past his shoulders as the wind whipped it around. But the eyes, Hermione would recognise those unfathomable pools of black anywhere.

"Well, come on then," he snapped, indicating that she should follow him. His voice was still warm, deep, like smooth dark chocolate and it made Hermione shiver for a different reason than the cold. He turned from her and strode in the same direction she had been heading.

She quickly caught up to him, and he led her through a deep thicket that surrounded a small stone cottage. There was a fire going inside, she could see the smoke from the chimney, but it dissipated as soon as it hit the first limbs of the trees above. Some sort of charm she was sure. What was he doing out here? Had he been out here alone all these years? How had he survived? She had watched him die. She had tried to save his life, and he'd definitely been dead. She knew because she'd taken his pulse. Was he a ghost? But ghosts couldn't do magic. And he certainly looked solid enough.

Snape led her inside the cabin, and she looked around eagerly, slightly fascinated and slightly horrified to be in a place where her dreaded Potions Master lived. Hermione's shivering increased as the warmth from the cabin began seeping through her wet clothes. She couldn't seem to stop her teeth from chattering.

"For fuck's sake, don't just stand there. Take off your wet things," Snape snapped at her.

He still had the power of the professor's voice, and she found herself complying without really questioning it. Her shaking hands unclasped her cloak so slowly that Snape tsked and came to stand before her. A flick of his fingers and her cloak hit the floor with a wet thump. Hermione's shivering increased, and Snape's nostrils flared. She was starting to get dizzy with how rapidly and shallowly she was breathing.

"I can help," she slurred, trying to help him unbutton her robes. He knocked her hands out of the way, and she could practically hear a litany of insults that she was sure he was repeating in his head, but he didn't say anything as he unbuttoned her robes. They too hit the floor, the sound softer with her cloak breaking their fall.

"Salazar, witch," Snape hissed and began tugging her soaked wool jumper over her head. Hermione was too fuzzy-headed to notice that he was stripping her completely. Dimly, she wondered if this is what hypothermia felt like.

Then she blacked out.

* * *

"Fool, fucking witch," Severus groaned as she collapsed into his arms half-dressed. What in the ever-loving fuck was she doing out in the middle of the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night anyway? In December no less? He really didn't want this complication that had fallen into his lap. When she'd tripped his wards, he'd assumed she was a wolf or centaur. He was shocked to see that it was her. He would have known her anywhere, what with the bushy, brown hair and the life debt he owed her.

He couldn't leave her out there to get attacked by the wolf who was after her. Thank Morgana that there weren't any werewolves in the Forbidden Forest anymore. He sighed as he snapped his fingers and her clothes Vanished from her body. He picked her up and strode across his cabin to the bed. After he placed her in it, he dug the warming pan out from underneath the bed and began to fill it with coals from the fire.

Granger shivered continuously, despite the layers of blankets and the warming pan. Severus bit both lips between his teeth as he considered his options. He could try to get her into a warm tub but thought that perhaps she was too far gone for a slow warm-up.

 _Perhaps the Body-Heat Charm_ , a voice whispered in his head. Severus groaned. The Body-Heat Charm would work perfectly, but it had other uses. Uses that weren't nearly as savoury as saving a witch from hypothermia. And it brought up the memories of the last time he had used the charm for those _unsavoury_ uses.

He tamped down images of his red-haired past and began stripping. If he was going to be performing the Body-Heat Charm in order to save Granger, he was at least going to do it correctly. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if she died out here. He might have to come out of hiding.

Finally nude, Severus crawled into bed with the witch. He hissed as he pulled her lithe body close to his. She was freezing, but despite the circumstances, he could feel his body responding to the situation. A naked witch in his bed, his plan to perform the Body-Heat Charm, and his body acted like it would have thirty years ago in the same situation.

He sighed and closed his eyes, praying to whichever god was listening for strength, he rolled Granger onto her back and covered her body with his own. Her legs fell open, and Severus grunted when his cock brushed against the short curls of her mons. He gritted his teeth and shifted, so he was straddling her legs and not the other way around. Then placing a forearm on either side of her head, carefully placing each arm under her hair to not pull it. Severus thought he had her surrounded as much as he could. She was still shivering, and Severus took a few deep breaths, willing his heart to calm as he began chanting the incantation for the Body-Heat charm under his breath.

Slowly, he could feel his own body heat leaving him in small dribs and drabs and entering Granger. Her skin began to warm beneath his and Severus began panting. When Granger starting writhing underneath him, Severus was sure he wasn't going to be able to hold the charm much longer. Her skin slid against his, it felt almost feverishly hot compared to his now cooler body. His cock was trapped between them and every movement she made, rubbed her mons and lower belly against him. He gritted his teeth. It felt fucking fantastic, but he wasn't quite finished with the Body-Heat Charm. There was a reason this charm was so dangerous, it transferred body heat from one person to another, but it inflamed other desires as well.

Suddenly, there was a pair of hands on his back, pressing him down into the witch below him. Severus buried his face into her hair near her shoulder as she took her pleasure from his stiff cock. She cried out as she came and Severus groaned, biting the inside of his lip to keep from spilling his load.

"Professor," she moaned, and Severus knew that she was back to herself. He should get off of her, he should move, but he found he couldn't. One of her hands trailed down and grasped his arse, pulling him into her and Severus was gone. He pumped his hips a few times, panting heavily, before finally coming across her lower belly.

"Yes," she hissed as he collapsed on top of her.

"Fuck," Severus groaned. He knew the dangers of the Body-Heat charm but had not expected that he'd fall into the trap with Granger of all people.

"Well, not quite," Granger quipped. "But maybe in a few minutes."

Severus closed his eyes for a second before moving as swiftly as he could off of her. He gathered his clothing and retreated to the bathroom for a few minutes to collect himself.

"Disgusting," he muttered to his reflection. His hair was peppered with grey these days, and while Minerva insisted he looked distinguished, Severus just thought he looked old.

Steeling himself, Severus strode quickly out of the bathroom and made himself busy stoking the fire. He was relieved to see that Granger had the sense to dry her clothing and dress once more. He didn't know what he would have done if she had still been naked, lounging in his bed. Although she was seated on the bed, at least she'd made it.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Severus suppressed a sigh.

"It was the life debt, nothing more," he said. "You can leave in the morning, as soon as you take an oath to never speak of this place to anyone else."

"Life debt?" Granger asked.

"You saved my life," Severus admitted, still facing the fire, unable to look her in the face. "During the final battle. Without your ministrations, I would be dead. Hence, life debt. It has been fulfilled."

"Good," Granger nodded. "Although I wasn't aware you had survived the final battle, I wouldn't have wanted you feeling indebted to me."

"I have for the last eleven years," Severus whispered.

"I wish I had known."

Severus nodded once but didn't say anything more. He didn't know what else to say to the witch. Minerva and the centaurs were the only ones who even knew he was alive, and quite frankly, he'd rather keep it that way. Granger had always been good at keeping her mouth shut when she'd been a student; hopefully, she still was. And if not, well, that's why he'd make her vow to not say anything. The last thing he needed would be to be hounded by the Aurors for his crimes or the press for his supposed 'heroics'.

He still received a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , despite sequestering himself away from the wizarding world. He knew exactly what the wizarding world thought of him. And he'd decided long ago, he wanted no part of it.

Granger yawned, and Severus decided he'd had enough _socialising_. He pointed to the sofa, and Granger took the hint, settling beneath the blankets he had set out for her. Severus banked the fire and returned to his bed, hoping he would at least get a little sleep, despite his unexpected visitor. Sleeping was always preferred to brooding.

* * *

Hermione lay awake a long time as she listened to Snape's breathing slow and turn into soft snores. What was he doing out here? He'd mentioned a vow to keep his secret. Hermione would have kept it regardless, but if it made him feel better, she'd absolutely make the vow. A life debt. She _had_ saved him all those years ago when she'd desperately poured dittany on his wound and the generic anti-venin down his throat. And now he was here.

And what had that been in his bed? Hermione hadn't really come to until she'd orgasmed. Her body had been so warm trapped beneath his. His cock buried against her belly. It had been one of the most erotic experiences of her life. It made her wonder what it would feel like to have his cock buried inside her cunt. Merlin, she was getting wet at the thought of it. She slipped a hand to her denims and unbuttoned them quickly to make room for her hand.

Sliding her fingers through her folds, Hermione found how turned on she was from thinking about what had happened earlier. She paused for a moment, listening to Snape's snores, sure that he was asleep, before twisting her fingers and gathering some moisture from her opening and dragging them up toward her clit. Merlin that felt good. She thought about the way Snape's body had felt on top of hers, all hard planes as she'd rocked along his cock. It had been placed just so, that she could mash her clit against it. It had felt so fucking good. She twirled her fingers around her clit now in remembrance. And then when she'd reached a hand down to grab his firm arse. Prior to that, she could tell he'd been holding himself back, but the moment she had touched him, encouraging him to take his pleasure, he'd let loose. His body had relaxed, he'd buried his face deeper into her hair, his breath brushing across her neck and ear. Just thinking about it was getting Hermione wetter.

Her fingers increased their movement as she felt her nipples tighten. She used her other hand to twist first one, then the other through her jumper and bra. Merlin, she was so fucking close. She screwed her eyes tighter as she thought of the way he'd rocked against her. It had been so erotic to hear his moans and grunts in her ear as he took his pleasure. And then the final, long groan as his hot come splashed onto her belly. Hermione's hand was moving so fast, and she pumped her hips in time to her movements. She was so close, fuck, Merlin and Morgana, she was about to come. Just as her orgasm began washing over her body, Snape's breathing changed, and Hermione knew he was awake. She tried to quiet her groan but was too far gone to do more than turn her head and bite her pillow.

She fell asleep with her hand still buried between her thighs.

* * *

Severus snapped awake when he heard Granger groan. He opened his eyes in the tiniest of slits and by the light of the fire, he could see her hands moving beneath the blankets. Was she...? Her body shuddered, and another groan slipped out before she turned her head, biting her pillow in an effort to keep quiet.

 _Oh, Merlin_ , he thought as he watched her come for the second time that night. His cock suddenly rock hard. Had she been thinking about earlier? Severus felt like an idiot for not explaining what it had been. Maybe she didn't know about the Body-Heat Charm? It wasn't like it was something taught at Hogwarts. And if she didn't know, would she think he took advantage of her? Although, if she did, he doubted she would masturbate to that later. Or was she still in the thrall of the charm? He willed his cock to deflate but knew it was no use. He rolled over and screwed his eyes shut, trying to will himself back to sleep.

* * *

 _December 2010_

* * *

Severus was half-dozing on his sofa with a book in his lap, when someone began pounding on the door to his remote cabin. The knocking was hard and loud. Nobody ever knocked on his door and despite his dozen years of solitude, his years as a spy trained his reactions, and he was standing with his wand in his hand, wide awake in a matter of moments.

"Who is it?" Severus called out. He walked silently to the door, wand raised as he listened for a response. They either didn't answer, or the wind that was howling around the corner of the cabin took their response away before he could hear it.

Wand pointed at the door, Severus reached his other hand out and opened it quickly, half-fearing who would be behind it.

He blinked and cocked his head to the side because he couldn't tell who it was.

Their dark cloak covered them from head to toe, and they had an equally dark scarf wrapped so many times around their neck and head that all Severus could see peering at him were wide brown eyes. The creature shut the door behind them and began unwinding the scarf. Severus kept his wand pointed at them, his eyes narrowed in suspicion until he could see the beginnings of bushy, brown hair. He lowered his wand completely by the time she had uncovered her face.

Frowning, he turned away from her. What on earth could she want? He hadn't seen her since he'd rescued her from the wolf and the cold the year prior. She'd taken a vow of silence and hadn't even owled him in the last year. He was happy with that arrangement.

That wasn't to say that _he_ hadn't thought about her. Of course, he had. The thoughts and feelings he'd stirred up in doing the Body-Heat Charm with her had plagued him all year. Had he any less self-control, he would have ended his self-imposed exile and sought her out.

"What can I do for you, Granger?" he finally asked as she hung her cloak on the peg next to the door. She turned to look at him, and Severus took in her attire of Muggle jeans and a jumper with a raised eyebrow. He wouldn't let himself admit that she looked good. Really good. He willed his cock to stay down, even as it began to stir with interest.

"I need to know what you did to me last year," Granger said plainly, crossing her arms over her chest. Severus did not invite her to sit down. He watched her hair as it seemed to grow in size as it dried.

"What _I_ did to _you_?" Severus hissed. "Or what you did to me, you fool witch?"

"I didn't do anything to you!" Granger insisted. Severus could see he'd made her angry. Good. He was angry too.

"You barged through my wards like a rampaging erumpent. Forcing me to save you from a wolf like a bloody child. Then had the nerve to have hypothermia in which I had to heal you so you wouldn't die and force me to deal with the public!" Severus fairly shouted at her. He was taken aback by the venom in his own voice. He hadn't realised he was quite so angry as all that.

"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about!" Granger shouted at him. She uncrossed her arms, balling her hands into fists as she stamped her foot. "What the fuck was that with the hypothermia thing? What did you do to me? When I-I…" she trailed off, her face going bright red. Severus couldn't stop the smirk from crossing his features as she floundered for the right words. She couldn't meet his gaze. "When I climaxed!"

"Did you enjoy it?" Severus asked. Suddenly, the anger was gone. Especially when he thought about how flushed she looked now was similar to how flushed she looked as she came.

"Of course, I did. But that's not the point! I want to know what you did! I've researched hypothermia and treatments for a year and have found nothing! And I—" she cut herself off.

Severus tilted his head. "You what?"

"I can't… I haven't come like that since," she hissed.

Severus' smirk deepened, and he stalked toward her. "Liked it that much?"

"I've never felt anything like it before _or_ since," Granger whispered. "And believe me, I've been trying."

Severus felt a wave of jealousy rise up from his abdomen at the thought of Granger trying with someone who wasn't him. It was irrational, this jealousy, but he couldn't also help feeling a small nugget of pride that _he_ was the one who'd made her feel so good that for a year she went out chasing that feeling with anyone who would have her.

"Just how have you been trying?" Severus asked as he looked down his nose at her.

"How do you think, Snape? By fucking every Tom, Dick, and Harry who would have me! Sometimes more than one person at a time. But, fucking Merlin, nobody could compare. So what was it? What did you do?"

Severus circled her slowly. She was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath her jumper.

"What do you know of the Body-Heat Charm?" Severus asked once he'd crossed back to stand in front of her.

"The what?" Granger looked confused as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

"The Body-Heat Charm," Severus repeated with a slow smile.

Granger shook her head. "I've never heard of it."

"That's what I used," Severus replied. "It's not taught because it borders on Dark magic, although if used properly can be effective in healing hypothermia patients. Done incorrectly and it can kill one or both participants."

"And the… the…" she trailed off.

"The side-effects of the Body-Heat Charm," Severus continued on in his lecturing voice, "can include sexual arousal in one or both participants. Used during or as a prelude to sexual congress it can increase sexual arousal, making orgasms more intense and pleasurable for both parties."

"And that's what you used on me? Why?" Granger asked.

"Because I didn't feel like telling Minerva why I had a dead Gryffindor in my hidden cabin," Severus snapped. "I used it to save your life and fulfil the life debt I owed you. Don't read more into it than it was."

Granger knitted her brows. "Would you be interested in teaching me the Body-Heat Charm?" she asked.

"So you can go use it on every Tom, Dick, and Harry? I think not," Severus replied. "It's dangerous. Bordering on Dark magic, did you forget that part, Granger?"

"Of course not," Granger snapped. "But I can't fucking stand not having another orgasm like I had last year again. Do you have any bloody idea how uncomfortable that is? Being aroused and ready and trying and trying and trying and it's never quite right. Never quite good enough. Never quite satisfying enough. It's bloody awful!"

Severus lifted an eyebrow and glared at her, but didn't say anything. He wasn't about to teach her a dangerous charm just so she could get her rocks off.

"If you won't teach it to me, will you at least do it to me again? And maybe fuck me this time? Merlin, I think if I just had something to clench down on as I came it would be enough," Granger pleaded.

It took every ounce of Occlumency training Severus had ever had in order to keep a straight face. Granger had just propositioned him for sex. He wasn't sure he'd ever _been_ propositioned for sex before.

"Please? I'll go away and not come back, but you have to help me, Snape. Please!"

He turned from her as he considered her words. The problem Severus was having was that his cock was already hard. He was desperate to get her into his bed, but this was Granger. A former student. She'd been the bane of his teaching career for six long years, and then he'd had to owe her a life debt for another eleven years. He had been so relieved to have been done with her last year, and he somehow knew that if he gave in, he'd never rid himself of her.

 _Would that be so bad?_ The voice sounded suspiciously like Minerva's, and Severus scowled.

"This arrangement seems to be all about you, Granger. What do I get out of it?" Severus asked over his shoulder.

He knew full well what he got out of it, amazing sex with a beautiful witch was nothing to sneer at, but he also knew he couldn't give in too easily. He couldn't be too eager. She wasn't here because she liked _him_. She was here because he'd given her an unmatched experience. One that if she had her way, she'd rather do with _anyone_ else but him.

Granger sighed heavily, and Severus found himself turning back around to face her again. She looked defeated, her shoulders slumped, and Severus felt a lump begin to form in his abdomen at the sight. He wanted her. Merlin, he wanted her, but he _knew_ she didn't feel the same. He wouldn't give her the power over him that he'd once given Lily. He was done with that sort of all-encompassing, soul-crushing love. It was toxic, and he wouldn't survive another heartbreak. He'd barely survived it the first time around.

"Well," Granger pulled herself together and crossed the few steps to him. "I could make it very worth your while," she breathed as she reached a hand out and brushed it along his chest. "Before, after, doesn't matter. I will do whatever you want me to… Severus. Just perform the Body-Heat Charm during sex, and I'll be all yours."

Severus' cock twitched at her words. "Let's clarify those terms," Severus responded. "I perform the Body-Heat Charm _and_ have sex with you as a result of its side-effects and what? You'll perform fellatio on me? Allow me to take you any way _I_ please? Let me do whatever I want to you for how long, Granger?"

"We're negotiating the terms of a sexual encounter, Severus. The least you could do is use my name. Let's see, you get six hours. Either before the Body-Heat Charm, or after, or as part of it, I don't care. But six hours to do what you want to or with me. Within reason. I'll have a safe word. Fair?"

"What is your safe word, Hermione?" Severus rumbled as he caught the hand that had been roaming his chest in a tight grip. He pushed it behind her, to the small of her back, forcing her chest into his body. He smirked at the sight she made: half-indignation, half-arousal. He would have fun playing with her.

"Scarlet," Hermione murmured. "My safe word is scarlet."

Severus lifted an eyebrow but didn't remark on her safe word. "Let's seal our deal, shall we?" Her eyes widened just before he pressed his lips to hers and was pleased when she placed her free hand around his neck, pulling him to her. She opened her mouth and deepened the kiss by sweeping her tongue along his lips. Severus happily complied with her request by opening his own mouth in response and allowing her to kiss him. She moaned happily, and Severus felt his cock jerk at the sound. Merlin, the things this witch did to him.

Deftly, he backed her across the room and to his bed. He released her so she could fall back on it and then they were all hands, tearing at each other's clothing. It wasn't long until they were both naked.

Severus stretched over her, relishing the feel of her body writhing beneath him. Her skin was so soft, he just wanted to wrap himself inside her and never leave.

"Are you—"

"You first," Severus said. "I'll do the Body-Heat Charm first. Then when we're recovered from that, I'll take my six hours."

Granger nodded, her eyes wide. Severus braced his arms on either side of her head, just as he'd done the year before, being careful not to trap her hair. She opened her legs, and he settled into the vee of them. His cock was hard and heavy against her core, but he didn't thrust inside her. Not yet. He wouldn't be able to concentrate on the charm if he was buried inside her warmth. She wrapped her legs around him and braced her hands on his shoulders.

Severus took a deep breath and buried his face into her shoulder so he could concentrate. Her nipples pebbled against his chest, and he caught himself mid-thrust against her core. He needed to concentrate, so he didn't kill them both. This was so dangerous, but Merlin, the thought of being buried into a witch as a result of this charm again had him willing to throw caution to the wind like a damned Gryffindor.

Slowing his breathing, Severus began chanting under his breath. He didn't want her to overhear the words. He didn't want her to know the spell so that she could go off and experiment with someone else. It was selfish and jealous, but he didn't care. Right now, he only cared about how it was going to feel to finally push his cock inside her warm, wet cunt.

A few more chants and his body heat began slipping from him. He thrust himself inside her warmth and Granger's back arched almost comically far.

"Oh, fucking Godric, that's amazing," Granger panted, sweat beading along her brow.

Severus nodded but didn't say anything. He had to concentrate on the spell. He couldn't allow too much of his body heat to escape, but he was just cool enough that being buried into her hot cunt was almost enough to make him come. He began moving in long, slow strokes. Granger matched him stroke for stroke, moaning and babbling away. He'd never heard a witch talk as much as she did in bed, but he found he fucking loved it.

"Oh, yes. Right there. Oh, Merlin, Severus. Feels so fucking good," she murmured into his ear, and it was everything Severus could do to not fucking preen at her words. He picked up his pace, concentrating as hard as he could on the charm. He'd let it slip, and ice crystals had formed at the small of his back, but he got his concentration back as Granger began to fall apart beneath him.

She was bucking her hips, tossing her head back and forth and she reached a hand between them to begin playing with her clit, Severus could feel her fingers slipping around her clit as he drove into her over and over again, relentlessly.

"Fuck, I'm going to…" Granger trailed off as her body stiffened, her inner muscles clamping around Severus' cock so hard, he couldn't move. Wave after wave of orgasm came over the witch, each one indicated by the clamping around his cock. It felt marvellous, and Severus lost control of the charm. Just for a moment, but it was enough.

When she was finally relaxed enough that he could move again, Severus wasted no time in quickly reaching his pleasure from her. She was almost boneless beneath him, and Severus finally reached his completion with a low roar into her shoulder.

The first few twitches of the seizure didn't register to Severus. It was when Granger's hand slapped his back, that Severus realised something was wrong. He lifted himself off her and stared down in horror. She was sweating and seizing. Her muscles stiffening and releasing in a macabre dance. One that Severus had hoped he'd never have to see again.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered as he began searching for his wand. He knew of an anti-seizure charm that should stop the convulsions. Then he'd have to bring down her temperature. It was a febrile seizure. A side-effect of the Body-Heat Charm if not done correctly, or if concentration was lost during it. He shivered as he began casting the anti-seizure charm. It seemed to work as Granger stilled, but a diagnostic told him her fever was dangerously high. He flicked his wand to begin filling his tub with lukewarm water and dashed across the cabin with Granger in his arms, lowering her gently to the tub. He put a sticking charm on her upper back to keep her head above the water and began searching through his potions stores for a fever reducer. He found one at last and turned around to administer it.

Granger was sweating, so Severus began adding ice to the bath, attempting to cool it as safely as he could, before prying her mouth open and pouring the fever reduction potion down her throat.

Fifteen minutes later, Granger was still unconscious. Severus cast another diagnostic charm and was relieved to see her temperature back down to normal. He hoped that when she woke up there wouldn't be any lasting damage. Her fever had spiked to almost forty-one degrees. Dangerously high, although it was only that high for a few moments before it began falling. Severus levitated her out of the bath and back into his bed. How could the night have gone as terribly as it had? He watched over her as he let the fire die down, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Hermione stirred, her head feeling fuzzy. She caught sight of Severus sitting beside the bed, but the last thing she remembered was orgasming. Had her orgasm been so powerful as to make her black out? That had never happened before, although she'd heard of it happening.

"What happened?" she asked. Her voice was rusty with disuse, and she coughed, trying to clear her throat.

"Here," Snape held a glass of water to her lips, and she took a sip of it as she eyed him. He looked awful. Like he hadn't slept all night. It was clearly morning, judging by the way the meagre winter sun shone through the windows of the cabin.

"What happened?" Hermione asked again.

Snape looked...embarrassed? Hermione was sure she'd never seen that look on his face before. He quickly averted his gaze from hers, and Hermione felt a chill run through her. What in the world had happened to make Snape look at her with that mixture of embarrassment and guilt? What had he done to her?

"I lost control of the charm," Snape said as he shook his head, hiding behind his hair and Hermione felt annoyance creep into her. What exactly was he hiding from?

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked, sitting up. She felt weak, her head was dizzy, and she put her hand to her forehead, trying to forestall the spinning.

"It means I lost control. The Body-Heat Charm requires exquisite control in order to not kill one or both participants. I-I almost killed you." The look he gave her then was so full of regret and self-loathing that Hermione found herself recoiling from him. She couldn't understand what happened.

"Explain. What does it mean? What specifically happened?" Hermione snapped.

"You had a febrile seizure. Your fever peaked at forty-one degrees before I was able to get it under control and snap it. You lost consciousness and didn't regain it until now. Diagnostic charms showed you were stable, so I let you rest." His voice was tight and clinical. Hermione felt a growing horror dawn at what had transpired. Forty-one degrees could cause _brain_ damage.

"Are you insane?" she hissed. "You should have taken me to St. Mungo's!"

"I'm dead," he spat. "How would that look, me carting you to St. Mungo's. A man who's been dead for a dozen years?"

Hermione couldn't believe that this was happening. She hadn't thought about the risks of the Body-Heat Charm, despite what Snape had told her. She spotted her wand lying on the bedside table and grasped it. Dressing quickly she cast a withering glare at him before crossing to gather her cloak.

"I've reattached my Floo to the Three Broomsticks for the moment," Snape murmured. "Please use it. I'll break the connection once you've gone."

Hermione stalked out of Severus' cabin with an angry shout of Floo directions. She needed to go see her Healer to ensure there wasn't any possible brain damage. What in the seven hells had she been thinking? She needed to put all thoughts of Severus Snape and his sexual prowess out of her bloody mind.

* * *

 _December 2011_

* * *

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Severus cursed as his hand shook while adding the porcupine quills to his cauldron, accidentally adding them too quickly. The potion bubbled furiously, and Severus Vanished it with a flick of his wand.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"I'm coming!" he shouted as he turned off the flame. It was the right time of year for her, but he wouldn't allow himself to hope.

 _Who else would be knocking on your door?_ Minerva's voice argued in his head, and Severus found himself answering the door with a scowl.

He didn't need her to unwind the massive scarf from around her neck to know who it was. He allowed her to come in and shut the door behind her before returning to his workstation to finish cleaning up. It was obvious he wasn't getting any more work done until she'd said her piece. Honestly, he was sort of surprised that it took her a year to come back here. Perhaps by now, it was just a Pavlovian response. Come back to Snape's cabin once a year to get the shag of a lifetime. He snorted at the thought.

"Teach me," Granger said when he finally turned back around to face her. She was in a jumper and denims again and looked as good as she had the year before. He found himself telling his cock to calm down. She was only here to tell him off, he knew. He lifted his eyebrow but didn't say anything, waiting for her to go on. He wasn't disappointed. "Teach me the Body-Heat Charm. Let me use it on you. Consider it payback."

"No," Severus responded. He busied himself by tidying up his notes, ignoring her huff of frustration.

"Dammit, Snape! Perhaps I'll be better at keeping my concentration than you," Granger insisted. "Let me at least try."

"So you can kill me and claim it was an accident? I think not, you fool witch. You've managed to save my life once, I don't really think it's yours to get rid of now, do you?"

"That's not what this is about," Granger said. "I want to learn the Body-Heat Charm. I want to have the best orgasm of my fucking life. You may have fucked up a year ago, but it was still the best orgasm I've ever had. I've spent another fucking year chasing it down, and I'm bloody sick of it. So teach it to me. Let me try," she pleaded with him.

Merlin, did he want to let her try. But the idea of giving in to her again and fucking up was terrifying. It was less that he didn't want to die and more that he didn't want that to be on her conscience if something went wrong.

"It doesn't even need to be sex when you teach me. Just teach it to me, and we can skip the sex part."

"It only works when you're unclothed," Severus responded. He raised his eyebrow when she blushed.

"Fine, but that still doesn't mean sex has to be involved."

Severus snorted. The whole reason she _wanted_ to even learn the charm was because of sex. Of course, some sort of sex was going to be involved.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Granger. You could seriously hurt someone if you do this wrong," Severus said. He refused to meet her eye.

"Like you did to me," Granger replied, lifting her chin in defiance.

"It was a fucking mistake last year. That's all it was," Severus hissed. "I should have listened to myself and refused you, thrown you out on your arse. All you've ever brought me is trouble."

Granger looked hurt at that, and Severus felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but his words were the truth.

"I take it you didn't want to survive the war," Granger whispered.

"The war over a dozen years ago, Granger. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm still alive. But you are correct. I hadn't planned to live."

"I'm sorry," Granger shrugged. "I didn't mean to make your life more difficult by saving it, Severus."

Sighing, Severus nodded his acknowledgment of her apology. He didn't know what to do with this witch. He wanted her. Merlin, he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone, but he lived a solitary life. One where most people thought he was dead, and he liked that life. He had nothing to offer her. _Perhaps you should offer her what she's asking for?_ Minerva's voice again and Severus frowned.

"I'm too old for you, Granger. Why are you so insistent on this?"

Granger threw back her head and laughed, Severus' scowl deepened. "You're not any older than the last two years."

"I was too old then, too," Severus grumbled.

Granger grinned at him. "You're going to do it aren't you?"

"Against my better judgment, it seems like I might be," he replied. "Theory first though." He gestured to his sofa and went to the bookshelf beside the fireplace, pulling a few tomes down.

Settling down next to Granger, Severus began to teach the theory and history behind the Body-Heat Charm. Granger had predictably Summoned parchment and a quill and began taking notes.

"Fascinating that it started as a healing charm," Granger offered.

"A lot of spells start that way, actually," Severus responded. "There's rumour that even the killing curse began as a way for healers to put people out of their misery, but I haven't found any concrete evidence for that."

"Really? I've never heard that theory before. Is it the same for things like the Entrail-Expelling Curse?" Granger asked.

Severus found himself genuinely smiling at her. "Yes, a slightly different wrist movement and the Entrail-Expelling Curse becomes the Entrail-Expelling Charm, which removes blockages from the intestines."

"Maybe I should have become a healer. This is fascinating. Alright, so I have the theory down. It sounded like you were chanting something?"

"Yes, the incantation doesn't require a wand, just a chant of the words, and skin-to-skin contact with the recipient of the body heat. The incantation is _calor meam transferrem_. Rather simple, but easy to remember. To end the charm, you have to shut off the connection you spent time cultivating while chanting and then cease the chanting. Control is key, letting too much of your body heat through the connection will kill me and could kill you too."

" _Calor meam transferrem_ ," Granger muttered under her breath a few times. "Alright, I think I've got it."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her easy confidence. It was astonishing to him that she thought she would so easily pick up a complicated charm that bordered on Dark magic. Although, perhaps she had an affinity for Charms.

"Do we need to practice or anything?" Granger asked.

"That's why we're not having sex," Severus replied. "That is the practice. It only works on humans. Try it on an animal, and you'll probably kill the animal immediately, even if the animal is about the same size as a human."

"Oh," Granger said, looking a little bit more nervous now.

Severus eyed her for a moment. "There's no shame if you decide you don't wan—"

"Get undressed," Granger snapped.

Severus smothered his smirk as he stood from the sofa and began unbuttoning his shirt. He was nervous but tried not to show it. He hadn't given up control like this, since Lily, and it felt foreign to him to do so. But, he'd almost killed Granger last year, doing this charm. And she wasn't wrong. He'd never much enjoyed sex without using the Body-Heat Charm. Probably because he and Lily had used it the first time they ever had sex. And then every time after that. It was his kink now.

A few years ago, he'd thought he didn't need sex, that he could move through his quiet, solitary life without it. And then Granger had quite literally bumbled her way into his life and had lit something inside him he'd long thought was dead. The nervousness about giving up control wasn't enough to override his overall desire to allow her to do this.

He had his shirt off, and his trousers unbuttoned when he felt a pair of hands on his back. He stiffened momentarily and then eased into the warmth of her hands as they explored and mapped his skin. She hooked her hands into his trousers and slid them down his hips. His pants were caught with them, and he was suddenly very naked.

It felt different than the last time where it was a frenzied rush of torn clothing, each of them desperate for the other. Granger hugged him from behind, and it was a shock to feel that she was already naked. Her breasts pressed against his back. Severus turned in her arms and placed a hand on her cheek, turning her face to his. Without giving it much thought, he bent his head and slanted his lips over hers. She responded eagerly and soon had him backed to the bed. He sat and then laid down, and she scrambled on top of him.

Her weight on top of him was welcome. She leaned forward, kissing him again as she slid her wet core along his painfully hard cock.

"No sex, Hermione," he reminded her gruffly. "Just the Charm. If you manage it, we can discuss sex."

Granger pouted but nodded. She stretched above him, covering as much of his skin as she could with her own. Grasping his hands, she laced her fingers through his and placed them next to his head. Her head lay on his chest, and she began chanting. Severus closed his eyes as he could feel her body heat leaving her body and entering his. Had his cock not been trapped between their bodies, he knew it would have been twitching with the need to be touched. He shifted slightly, groaning when her core slid along his cock again. It was intoxicating, and he could feel his breathing speed up.

" _Calor meam transferrem_ ," Granger muttered into his chest, over and over again. It was everything Severus remembered. His skin burned with the feeling of her body heat entering him, and his cock was weeping. He was pumping his hips mindlessly against her core.

"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned when his balls began to draw up. A tingle at the base of his spine and he knew he was much too far along to even think about stopping now.

Suddenly, the connection to the Body-Heat Charm ended, Severus could feel her severing the connection, and he arched his back in a low groan as he came. Wave after wave of his seed spurted between their bodies.

"Fuck," Granger moaned. "I'm so fucking turned on right now. How soon can you go again?"

Severus laughed dryly. "I'm old. Not soon enough for you, I'm sure."

Just as she was about to pout, Severus rolled them over, so her back was on the bed. "But I have a few other tricks up my sleeve."

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before he began kissing his way down her neck and to her chest. He'd seen these magnificent breasts and had much too little time to explore them. He shifted his weight so he could free up his hands and cupped a breast in each. She was more than enough, and he was pleased when she tossed her head back as he thumbed her nipples.

"Do you like that?" Severus asked, rolling each nipple between a thumb and forefinger.

"Yes," she hissed. "Lick them, suck them."

Severus smirked. That had been his plan all along, so he was happy to follow her direction. He lowered his head and brought one nipple to his mouth. It pebbled beautifully as he began to suck on it. Granger bucked her hips in response to the stimuli. Then she drove her fingers through his hair, holding him in place as he licked and nibbled her nipple.

She pouted when he let the first one go. "Think the other one is getting lonely," he murmured into her skin between kisses as he moved his lips from one nipple to the next. Granger sighed and combed her fingers through his hair along his scalp. It felt bloody perfect, and Severus attacked her other nipple with fervour.

"Merlin," Granger cried out as he hollowed his cheeks. "I think it's almost enough to make me come."

"Not yet, witch," Severus said, pulling off her nipple with a small pop. "I'm not done with you yet."

Granger smirked and lifted an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? What's next?"

It was Severus' turn to smirk as he shifted his body once again and began kissing his way down her stomach to her core. She opened her legs to make room for him, and he lifted one over his shoulder as he licked her slit with the flat of his tongue.

"Fucking Merlin, yes!" Granger shouted as he swirled his tongue around her clit. She was incredibly responsive, and Severus found himself experimenting to see which actions caused the biggest reactions. She rather liked the way he licked along the left side of her clit just so. Her hips bucked uncontrollably when he tapped her clit with the tip of his tongue. And when he buried his tongue into her opening, rubbing her clit with the tip of his nose, she came undone. It was the best reaction he'd had yet.

Her thighs shook around him with the force of her orgasm. He let her ride it out along his tongue, her hands were clasped so tightly to his head, he feared he'd be missing hair if he attempted to pull away. And the sweetness of her release on his tongue was enough to get his cock twitching with interest again.

"Godric, you're good at that," she murmured as her body collapsed to the bed, almost bonelessly.

"Mmm," Severus hummed. He continued licking and kissing along her slit. Tapping his tongue to her very engorged clit every now and again.

"Fuck," Granger shuddered above him. "If you keep that up, I might come again."

Severus fought his smirk as he pressed his tongue as far into her cunt as he could. Then he hummed again and was pleased when her hips bucked. Her hands were back in his hair, holding him in place, and Severus pulled both of her legs over his shoulders, opening her wider to his feasting mouth.

Granger was so far gone her shouts and cries weren't even words anymore. Severus brought one hand up and as he swirled his tongue around her clit, tapping it just so every third swirl or so, he pushed first one finger, and then two, and then three inside her greedy cunt. She gripped him tightly, her walls already pulsing around his fingers. He made a come-hither motion, and she shattered around him. Her cunt gripped his fingers so tightly he was mildly worried she'd break them.

As she began to come down from her high, he pumped his fingers in and out lazily. His tongue never ceasing its movement around her clit.

"Sev-Severus. Too sensitive," she mumbled. Then she had another, much smaller orgasm and Severus finally stopped his movements. Slowly, he drew his fingers from her, licking them clean as he moved up the bed and settled next to her. His cock was hard again and bumped against her hip.

"Merlin, had I known that was in store for me, I certainly wouldn't have run out on you last year."

Severus snorted and wrapped an arm around her. "You should rest." She tucked her head into his chest and fell asleep moments later.

It took Severus a while later. He was trying to figure out his feelings for the witch in his arms. They certainly hadn't spent enough time together for him to say that he loved her, but they were very compatible sexually. He wondered what she did for work? He didn't even know.

It was a long time before he too finally managed to drop into slumber.

* * *

 _January 2012_

* * *

She'd been gone a month and Severus was bloody miserable. Minerva had told him to either go after her or not come back for tea until he was ready to not be an ever-loving grump. He'd managed to flip her the two-fingered salute before stepping back through the Floo connection to his cottage.

He hadn't been to a weekly tea with her since.

He'd thought that he and Granger had left things rather amicably, but it had been a month, and he hadn't heard a word from her. She'd spent three glorious days with him in his cabin. She was so much better at the Body-Heat Charm. He had been right, she was like Lily, better at Charms than him. Her concentration was so fine, she could bring them both to climax under the charm and still hold onto it. Even Lily hadn't been that good. Merlin, he fucking wanted her. Not just to fuck either. They hadn't spent all three of those days in bed. They read occasionally, and she spoke about her work in the Ministry.

He wasn't surprised to hear she was in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, he was shocked when she'd mentioned her improved version of Wolfsbane. Then when they began discussing it, he was pleasantly surprised to hear her ask him questions about other variations they could try. He'd thought she'd be back for that if nothing else. And yet, a month and nothing. Not even an owl.

Sighing again, he slumped onto the couch. He should just go find her if he was going to be so upset about the whole thing. But, even after all this time, he still valued his privacy. He _liked_ that everyone thought he was dead, and he had no plans to change that. Granted there hadn't been a funeral or anything for him. And he still paid his taxes. The goblins were _very_ discreet that way.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Severus sat up abruptly, knocking his book to the floor. He knew those knocks. He was across the cabin and opening the door just as she had raised her fist to knock again. He desperately wanted to rip the scarf from her face and press his lips to hers, but he held back.

"Hermione," he breathed as she stepped into the cottage. He shut the door behind her, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before turning around. Once he did, she jumped into his arms, wet cloak and all. She'd torn off her scarf and had her mouth on his faster than he realised what was happening.

He groaned into the kiss and gripped her thighs tightly as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. Her hand placed at the back of his neck in a move that screamed of caring, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet.

"Severus," she breathed as she broke the kiss, pressing her forehead to his. "I-I don't know what I was thinking. I thought when I left that…"

"Shh," Severus hushed then pressed a kiss to her lips again. He didn't want to hear her doubts about him. About how he was too old, too mean, too everything.

"No," she broke the kiss again. "No, I have to say this. I left because I thought I could match the experience with anyone. I didn't think it _had_ to be you. I knew… Merlin, I knew you couldn't want me. That you wouldn't want me. I knew it was a one-time thi—"

Severus cut her off by pressing his lips to hers again. Then he turned and pressed her into the door. Even through all her layers, she could still feel his hard cock, he was sure. She writhed against it like she could, and he deepened the kiss once more.

"Would you just listen to me," she fairly growled once she was able to break the kiss again.

"I don't care," Severus said. "I don't care why you thought what you thought. I just want this. I want you," he murmured into the skin of her neck. He licked the column of her neck, as far as her thick cloak would let him reach.

"Too many clothes," he grumbled as he set her on her feet and began attacking her cloak.

"Severus." Hermione put a hand on either side of his face and directed him to look at her. "I want this too," she said. "I want to explore what this is between us. And if you want to stay dead to the world, I'm okay with that. I just… I want to give this an actual shot. More than sex, more than the bloody charm. I want to _know_ you."

Severus closed his eyes for a long moment, leaning his forehead against hers. She tucked his hair behind his ears, curling her fingers there and Severus felt like a dog getting his favourite place itched. "I want that too, you fool witch," he said finally, opening his eyes and staring directly into her warm, brown ones.

"Good," she smirked and leaned in to kiss him once more. This time, the journey from door to bed took much longer as they explored each other's bodies, dropping clothing items here and there as they slowly revealed themselves to each other.


	11. A Time of Zombies

**A/N: Written for tellmesomething new for the Tomione Secret Santa exchange! I hope you love it!**

 **Many thanks to my wonderful beta's: Rachael, GaeilgeRua, and BirdieMing. This would not be the piece it is without them!**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review!**

 **Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Rating: M**

 **Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger**

 **Summary: Grindelwald's death set off a massive curse across Britain. Every recently dead wizard has become decidedly undead. The world collapses and only a handful of survivors remain. Tom Riddle, Grindelwald's lieutenant is one of them. As is Hermione Granger, Dumbledore 's lieutenant. When they meet, sparks fly. Almost literally**.

* * *

 **A Time of Zombies**

* * *

"It had to be zombies," Tom Riddle muttered under his breath as he hacked his way through a trio of them. "Magical zombies," he grunted, hacking down a few more with his sabre. The noise they made as his sword sliced through the rotting flesh had long since become music to his ears. No longer making him sick to his stomach. It signalled survival.

When Grindelwald began showing signs of losing the war, he knew the world was about to go to hell. Though Tom had served as Grindelwald's right-hand man, he was still nothing if not a survivor. So, he took precautions and quietly began making plans for a life lived in exile. Somewhere tropical and as far from wizarding Britain as he could get. Little did he know, that even as Grindelwald's right-hand man, Grindelwald had kept secrets from him. Some of the secrets were irrelevant. Like that Grindelwald and Dumbledore—leader of the Order of the Phoenix and the largest thorn in Grindelwald's side as he rose to power—were lovers as youths.

The fact that Grindelwald cursed newly dead wizards to become _un_ dead was something that Tom _did_ care about. And frankly, it pissed him off. Worse still, the curse was triggered by Grindelwald's death, which meant that not only was Tom out of a job, he now had an apocalypse to deal with. The resentment he'd built up against Grindelwald over the previous years had boiled over when Tom realised what Grindelwald had done. If Tom were more self-sacrificing, perhaps he would stay and attempt to clean up the mess.

The curse Grindelwald placed on newly deceased wizards was cruel. It went against most beliefs of the afterlife wizards held. Most thought that they were a mindless mass, going after wizards because the magic sustained them, settling for Muggles when wizards were scarce—and wizards _were_ getting scarce—but Tom knew better. Grindelwald was not only the one behind the zombies; he _was_ a zombie, and if Tom knew anything about Grindelwald, it was that he wouldn't settle for being ordinary. No, Tom suspected that Grindelwald was the head, directing the hordes of zombies that now roamed across the decimated landscape.

Tom slashed his way through the last two zombies and turned to survey his path of destruction. If the zombies weren't dead, they were at least incapacitated for the time being. The problem with magical zombies was that magic was useless against them. Only Muggle means seemed to stop them and even then, Tom suspected that they had regenerative properties. He was alone, fighting his way to the coast to get off this god-forsaken island, and didn't have an opportunity to experiment. He'd heard of a few survival groups, but Tom saw them as sitting ducks. After all, he had always been a loner, and that hadn't changed just because the world had gone to hell in a cauldron.

Surveying the land around him carefully, Tom determined he was alone once more. He didn't _think_ that the zombies could sniff out magic, so he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and took off at a slow jog toward a distant tree line. The sun was beginning to lower, and he would need to set up a place for camp for the night. Fortunately, zombies couldn't climb trees.

* * *

Three days later, he was ambushed while making his way through some difficult to navigate underbrush. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that cities and towns were death traps. Much better to make his way along through the countryside, eschewing buildings of any type altogether. Waterways were even worse; the zombies congregated around them. Tom didn't know if that was due to their altered biology, or if it had been an order from Grindelwald. It wouldn't surprise him if it was.

The group that had set upon him were not much bigger than the one from the day before, less than ten of them surely, but they were newer zombies. Faster, more capable of tripping him up.

 _THWACK_!

Tom looked around furiously to see an arrow pinning a zombie to a tree. It seemed he had attracted some attention. Just as he had that realisation, another zombie came for him, and he ducked his head as he swung his sabre over his head, lopping the head clean off.

"Nice move," a man's voice said from behind him.

Tom turned to see a black-haired man with glasses and the brightest green eyes he'd ever seen staring at him. The man had a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows slung across his back. Tom breathed heavily as he looked around him to find all of the zombies down. Slowly, three more people appeared out of the surrounding wood: a tall, lanky red-headed man with a face full of freckles, next to a fierce looking red-haired woman that had to be his sister, and a blonde girl with bulbous blue eyes.

"Thank you for your assistance," Tom said formally, unsure if they were going to prove themselves friend or foe.

"Muggle?" the blonde girl asked.

Tom smirked. "Wizard." The word 'Muggle' would have been meaningless to a true Muggle, but to a wizard, it was an easy identifier.

The black-haired man smiled and strode forward. "Harry Potter," he said, holding out his hand for Tom to shake.

Tom's eyebrow rose. He knew who Harry Potter was. The question was, whether Harry and his companions would know him. And if they did, what would they do about it? He looked at Harry's hand for a moment, weighing his options.

"Look, we don't care if you were a Grindelwald follower. We're all in the same mess now," the blonde woman said airily.

"You might when I give you my name," Tom replied.

"Dumbledore's dead," the red-headed woman spat. "We don't care about the shit Grindelwald and Dumbledore were fighting over. We care about surviving the zombies."

"Tom Riddle," Tom said, grasping Potter's hand. He smirked when the fierce red-head gasped. The blonde woman smiled at him though.

"You're cuter than I thought you'd be," Blondie said.

"Ron and Ginny Weasley," the red-haired man pointed at himself and his sister. "That's Luna Lovegood."

Tom knew all of those names. They had been high-ranking members of the Order of the Phoenix. "And how is the Order doing these days?" Tom asked.

"How are the Acolytes?" Potter retorted.

Tom smirked, "Touché."

"There is a group of us," Weasley said.

"Ron," his sister hissed, slapping his arm.

"You're welcome to join," Weasley continued, ignoring his sister.

"I'm not looking for another group to join," Tom said. "Just passing through the area."

Potter smiled tightly, and Tom smelled trouble. "It wasn't a request."

"I thought you didn't care about the war between Dumbledore and Grindelwald," Tom replied. He still had his sabre in his hand, but his wand was stupidly tucked away, and the four of them had him outnumbered, each with a wand in hand already. He had to give it to them, they were prepared.

"We don't, but we do believe in safety in numbers, and frankly we could use a fighter of your calibre," the female Weasley said.

"I still decline your thoughtful invitation," Tom said formally.

Potter laughed. "It wasn't a request," he repeated.

"If you hate it after a few days, you are free to leave," Lovegood said. "Come to get a hot meal, at least. You look as though you could use it."

Tom was furious, and his chest felt tight at being cornered. He was only a handful of leagues from the coast where he would hopefully find a boat to take him to the continent. As it turned out, Apparition during a zombie apocalypse was a very, very bad idea. Tom had tried early on, only to find himself needing to Apparate four times in a row before landing in a zombie-free area. From then on, he swore to only travel through Muggle means.

Despite Lovegood's assurances, Tom didn't believe for a moment they'd let him leave in a few days. He would just have to scope out this camp and find a way to escape. It set his plans back but wasn't insurmountable.

"Fine," he snapped, nodding tersely.

"Excellent." Lovegood seemed truly happy about the turn of events, but she was the only one. The female Weasley cast a glance of suspicion at him before following Lovegood. Potter and the other Weasley took up the rear, effectively surrounding him. At least they hadn't taken his wand. Yet.

* * *

The walk to the camp didn't take as long as Tom feared it would. They made it long before the sun went down. He was impressed with the camp, despite feeling like he was walking into a death trap. The camp was buried in a deep forest. It had defensive walls built into the forest itself, well-disguised enough that a passerby, or a zombie, probably wouldn't even notice.

None of the buildings were on the ground. It had taken Tom a minute to realise that everything had been built into the trees above them. He leaned his head back to get a good look at everything and was amazed to see the vast network of bridges and treehouses.

"How big is this camp?" Tom asked.

"We're hovering right around a thousand wizards," Potter replied. "No Muggles, although we're trying to figure out a way we can incorporate them if possible."

Tom sneered. "Why bother?"

"Not everyone holds your views on Muggles," the female Weasley spat. "They're people too."

"Right." Tom rolled his eyes. He forgot where he was for a moment.

"This way," Weasley led him up a ladder nailed into a huge oak tree. The ladder was at least two stories high.

"Don't the zombies try to climb the ladder?" Tom asked. Zombies couldn't climb trees, but a ladder? Even as uncoordinated as they were, Tom was sure a very determined, very _fresh_ zombie could manage it.

"There's a trip wire to make the slats sink back into the tree," female Weasley said from below him.

That was…kind of brilliant. Tom wondered who had thought that one up. When they arrived at the hut at the top of the ladder, Tom was in for another surprise. A blond toddler, who couldn't have been older than three or four, ran past them, rushing out onto one of the many swinging bridges, an adult lagging behind as she chased the toddler.

"Scorpius!" she shouted as the toddler squealed and made it to another hut several trees away.

"You have kids up here?" Tom asked.

"Railings are all charmed to prevent falls," Lovegood said. "We really aren't as dumb as you seem to think we are."

Tom grunted and followed Weasley into the hut.

"Who's this then?" a female voice asked as Tom blinked his eyes to get them used to the much dimmer light.

"Found him fighting a small horde," Potter said. "Claims he's Tom Riddle."

"Really?" the same female voice. Tom could make out someone behind a stack of parchment. Bushy, brown hair that seemed to be just as alive as the witch writing something out.

"I _am_ Tom Riddle," Tom bristled.

"Well, then hopefully you can tell us what curse Grindelwald used and cut my research time down then," the bushy-haired witch said, finally looking up from her parchment.

The moment Tom's eyes met hers he thought his heart might stop. He'd never seen her before, but something about her called to his fucking _soul_. The air crackled with it. He furrowed his brows, breathing heavily, trying to shake the recognition or whatever it was that had struck him and yet he couldn't.

"What is it, 'Mione?" Potter asked. His eyes bounced between Tom and the witch, but neither Tom nor the witch said anything as they continued to stare at one another. It was like their souls were speaking, and they were helpless to do anything about it.

"'Mione?" Weasley asked. Tom could see Weasley reach out and shake the witch's shoulder. She snapped her eyes to him and shook her head.

Finally, the connection was broken, and Tom felt like he could breathe again.

"It's nothing, Ron," the witch muttered. She stood from behind her desk and crossed the room to stand in front of him. It was then that Tom realised he was at least half a foot taller than her. Her hair and presence made her seem big, but she was quite short.

"Hermione Granger," she said, sticking out her hand.

Tom sucked in a breath. Dumbledore's right-hand lieutenant stood before him. "Tom Riddle," he replied, grasping her hand.

If catching sight of Granger made his heart quicken in his chest, touching her skin made the blood in his veins turn to fire and fucking sing. Granger gasped, and he couldn't help but follow suit. He didn't know what it was between them, but he desperately wanted to shove her against a wall and fuck her. Or over the desk. Hell, even the floor would do. His cock was hard and aching in his trousers for the first time in months.

"What the fuck is this?" Granger whispered.

Tom shook his head. He'd never had felt like this before.

"The soulmate bond," Lovegood whispered.

"The what?" Granger snapped, finally turning from Tom and piercing Lovegood with her warm, honey brown eyes. Tom shook his head again. He'd never thought of a witch's eyes with that many adjectives. Just what the fuck was going on?

"The soulmate bond. I'm sure that's what it is. It's activated when soulmates meet for the first time," Lovegood gushed.

"He is not my soulmate," Granger protested. "He's Grindelwald's fucking lieutenant for crying out loud! A Muggle hater! An anathema to everything I am and believe in!"

"Everything you _believed_ in," Lovegood said. "The world is changed. Different. Maybe a year ago he wouldn't have triggered it, but now? It's obvious. Look," Lovegood pointed at Hermione's hands. They were glowing light gold.

Tom looked down at his own, seeing the same golden glow. "What the fuck is this? How the fuck…?" He pulled out his wand and Scourgified and Evanescoed, but the glow stayed.

Lovegood giggled.

"Luna," Granger said sharply, gathering the blonde's attention. "We need more information. Can't exactly sneak around if I'm glow-in-the-dark."

"You aren't sneaking anyway," Potter drawled. "You're the leader, you can't sneak. You stay in camp and stay safe."

Granger glowered at Potter, and Tom wondered what their past entailed. They seemed…close.

"The glow goes away once the bond is consummated," Lovegood informed them.

Tom choked.

"Consummated?!" Granger and Potter shouted at the same time. Weasley laughed. Tom narrowed his eyes at the group.

"I don't know what the fuck you've gotten me into, but I want no part of it," Tom said through clenched teeth. He didn't care what was between him and Granger; he couldn't stay here. He had to leave. Turning to go, he found his path blocked by Potter and Weasley. He whipped around to see that Granger had directed them to stop him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tom hissed.

"If Luna says we have to…consummate this," she looked as if she were sucking a lemon wedge, "then that's what we'll do. You aren't leaving me here to fucking glow, Riddle."

"I'm not fucking you," Tom said. "I don't want to be here, I was forced to be here. This is hippogriff shit. Is this how you trap everyone here? This fake soulbond tripe?"

"Of course not!" Lovegood insisted. "Soulbonds are incredibly rare. They only happen every few generations or so."

"Oh, how fucking special," Tom sneered. "Doesn't change facts."

"Out!" Granger shouted. Tom was shocked to see how quickly everyone else left.

He glared down at the small witch until both doors to the hut were closed. She flicked her wand and Tom heard the distinctive sound of locks sliding home.

"I'm not fuckin—"

"Shut up, Riddle. Shut up and listen. I have a thousand fucking people here to depend on my leadership. And despite what Harry says, I do have to go out and fight the hordes when they come calling. We're mostly hidden here, but they find us occasionally. I can't be fucking glowing and be an effective leader. You were Grindelwald's man, you know what it means to lead. So help me lead," she hissed.

"I don't want to lead a group. I just want to get to the fucking coast, and get off this fucking island!"

"I don't want you to lead _with_ me," Granger spat. "Salazar, you're fucking stupid. I just want to fuck you, so I stop fucking glowing. Merlin, you'd think it wouldn't be this hard to get laid. I don't care if you close your eyes because you think I'm ugly, let's just fucking get it done."

Tom breathed out heavily and stalked toward her. His cock had been hard for entirely too long. He backed her up to the tree at the centre of the hut, pressing his cock into her stomach.

"Still think I find you ugly?" Tom hissed.

"It'd be fine if you did," Granger whispered.

"Shut the fuck up," Tom said as he pressed his mouth to hers.

If he thought touching her skin was going to put him over the edge, he had no idea what this was. He felt like he was going to come from just a kiss. She climbed him like a tree, wrapping both legs around his waist as he pressed into her. He wrapped a hand around each thigh, holding her up as he pushed his cock into her centre. Merlin, he couldn't wait to be fucking naked with her.

"F-Fuck." He tore his mouth from hers and began kissing down her jaw and the side of her neck.

"Clothes. Off. Now," Granger demanded.

Tom agreed wholeheartedly. He gripped both sides of the men's button-down she was wearing and ripped it off of her, buttons flew, bouncing around the hut. Granger wiggled her shoulders, dropping the shirt entirely, then flicked her bra open and removed that as well.

Tom stared at her perfect breasts for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. He reached a hand up and cupped one of them. Granger groaned, her head slamming into the tree behind her as he thumbed her nipple.

"Like that?" Tom breathed.

"Suck them," Granger ordered. Tom smirked at her and dropped his head. Her nipple felt like heaven in his mouth as he rolled it around. It pebbled so beautifully, and he rocked his hips into hers in response.

"Fucking Godric," Granger groaned and grabbed the back of his head, directing him to her other breast. Tom was happy to oblige. If he never sucked a pair of breasts again, he would still die a happy man. She was _so_ fucking responsive. It seemed everything he did ratcheted up her pleasure.

He pushed her legs off his waist and began attacking the button at the top of her jeans, dropping to his knees as he did. She helped him push down both her denims and knickers. He breathed in the scent of her and leaned in to lick her clit.

"No fucking time," Granger muttered and pushed on his shoulders. Tom fell back onto the floor, and she scrambled on top of him. She made quick work of his trousers. He lifted his hips to help her move them down.

"Fuck," Granger grunted when she caught sight of his cock.

"See something you like?" Tom teased.

"I'll like it better buried in my cunt," Granger responded. Tom's cock twitched.

Granger wrapped her hand around him, pumping him, and he bit his lip. He reached down and gripped either side of her hips, helping her guide him inside. She sank down until he was buried, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

This was it. This was the feeling he never knew he'd been missing his entire life. "I…" he didn't even know what to say.

"I know," Granger agreed breathlessly.

"Move," Tom said. "You need to move." He shifted his hips.

Granger balanced her hands on his chest and rocked her hips forward. It was her turn to relish in the sensation, her eyes fluttering to the back of her head as his cock slid through her folds. Tom reached a hand up and palmed one of her breasts. He tweaked her nipple, and Granger gasped, rocking her hips faster.

"Yes," Tom hissed, flexing his hips again. "Like that." He was starting to feel breathless, like he was about to come, but he wasn't ready. He desperately began to think about Potions ingredients. Merlin, he wasn't ready to come yet.

"I…" Granger rocked her hips faster, and Tom put both hands back on either side of her waist. He held her tightly, helping her rock faster and faster over him.

It didn't take long for Granger to shout out through her orgasm. She collapsed onto his chest, and Tom took the opportunity to roll them over. He could tell that Granger liked being in charge, but the only way he was going to come now was if he dominated her. He grasped her hands, pressing them into the floor next to her head. She wrapped her legs around him as Tom began fucking her in long, smooth strokes. He buried his face into her neck, licking and biting what he could reach.

"Fucking perfect," he muttered. "This. You. Fuck. I never want it to end."

"Same," she groaned. "Fucking same. I want to fuck like this forever. Feels, oh Merlin, I'm going to come again."

"Fuck. Yes. Come," Tom groaned, applying himself faster and faster. Trying to get Granger off again, fuck he wanted to feel her cunt grip him so sweetly again. He knew it would feel better the second time she came. And he was right. She shouted, arching her back as her cunt gripped him so hard he couldn't move. And Merlin, did it feel better. She was tighter as he slid through the tremors of her latest orgasm.

"That's it," Tom hissed as she came down. "Just like that."

"What are you doing to me?" Granger muttered, her cunt slicker than ever. Tom wondered if he could hold out for a third.

"I'd ask you the same thing," he breathed, pulling back from her shoulder to look her in the face.

The moment their eyes connected, Tom felt his orgasm begin to build. His balls were drawing up, and he was going to come. Then Granger kissed him, and he groaned into it as he shot load after load into her hot cunt.

"Fuck," Tom breathed when she finally released him.

"Yeah," Granger agreed. "Now I have to get back to work."

Tom groaned and rolled off of her, resting for a moment and watching as she dressed.

"You should get dressed," she said. "I'll be calling the council back in shortly."

"Smells like sex in here," Tom commented, leaning up on one of his elbows.

Granger shrugged. "They knew what was going to happen when I ordered them out."

Tom grunted, dropping back down. "So the soulbond is hippogriff shit."

"No, it's real," Granger said. "Luna knows these sorts of things, and she's always right." She shrugged.

"I don't want a soulmate."

"Sorry?" Granger offered. "I wasn't really in the market for one either."

"Are you going to make me stay?" Tom asked as he finally stood to get dressed.

"I…no. You can go. Just, try to be quiet about it so as not to give out our position."

"What were you going to say?" Tom asked with narrowed eyes. Granger settled herself back behind the desk piled with parchments.

"That I think the camp could use your talents," Granger said, not meeting his eyes.

"The camp, or you?" Tom asked. He stepped around the desk and squatted down near her chair.

"Does it matter?" Granger asked. "You're leaving."

"It matters," Tom said.

"Fine, I wouldn't hate it if you stuck around for a while," Granger admitted.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Tom asked. Before she could say anything, he pressed a kiss to her lips. She melted into him, and Tom wondered what the hell he was doing. He knew if he didn't go now, leave this camp tonight, that he was probably never going to leave. How could he leave half his soul behind? Even he wasn't so callous as all that.

"The council," Granger moaned against his lips.

"I guess I better go then," Tom said, kissing her again.

"Be on the council," Granger said. "Please."

Tom smirked against her mouth. "Alright. If you insist. Soulmate."

Granger wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him closer as she plundered his mouth. Tom was definitely not leaving.


	12. Northern Lights

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Hideaway Fest for the Hermione's Haven FB group. Many thanks to my betas, BirdieMing and Rachael for their time on this piece.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review!**

 **Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione/Tom Riddle**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione and Tom vacation in Svalbard, Norway to see the Northern Lights for the holidays.**

* * *

 **Northern Lights**

* * *

 _December 23_

* * *

"Svalbard? Really, Hermione?" Tom Riddle complained, his posh accent making him sound even more snobbish. Hermione Granger rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

"It's the Northern Lights, Tom. You'll love it," she assured him as she dragged him from the Portkey point and toward Longyearbyen, the largest town in the Norwegian archipelago. Hermione had always wanted to see the Northern Lights, and when she'd finally gotten Tom to agree to a trip for the holidays this year, she'd chosen the perfect place for a sighting.

"But it's cold. I had hoped for something a little more…tropical," Tom said, teeth chattering as they trudged toward the town. "And besides, it's dark here and it's barely noon."

"It's the polar night. Isn't it neat?" Hermione nearly bounced in her excitement. They were only planning to stay for about a week, and there was no time to waste. She couldn't wait to spend some time gazing at the Northern Lights. She thought she could already see a faint crackle in the distance, and she couldn't wait to get away from the lights of town to see the wonder in its undiluted glory.

Tom sighed heavily but didn't say anything more as he and Hermione entered the main street in town.

"Our hotel is on the western edge of town," Hermione muttered. "Let's see, Longyearbyen is mostly a wizard town, I bet we can find a place with a Floo."

"There." Tom pointed to an inn with a pair of crossed wands.

"Good spot." Hermione grinned before leading him to the pub.

"The Crossed-Wand? Original," Tom harrumphed.

"Are you going to be crabby the entire time we're here?" Hermione asked suddenly. She pulled up to a stop just outside the entrance and glared at her boyfriend.

"You kept hinting tropical."

"You weren't paying attention then," Hermione said primly. "I said nothing about tropical."

Tom sighed heavily. Again. "Fine. I'm done pouting. I'm sure you have an amazing trip planned for us, darling."

Hermione smiled up at him. Slinging her arms around his neck, she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before breaking apart.

Tom found the bartender and paid to use their Floo. A few moments later, they were in the lobby of their hotel. Hermione dealt with the concierge at the hotel, and then they were back outside in the snow.

"Cabins? Really?"

"I think it'll be really romantic," Hermione insisted. "Think about it. Snowy cabin, dark all the time, just the Northern Lights beyond our windows…"

Tom finally smirked at her and chased her up the pathway to their cabin. Hermione fit her key into the door of the cabin and pushed it open. It was even better than she imagined. Tom slid his arms around her waist once they stepped fully into the space, shutting the door behind them.

There was a huge Christmas tree along one wall, right next to a roaring fireplace. A bed was opposite, and in the back of the room was a small kitchenette and a bathroom.

"Did you know there was going to be a tree?" Tom asked as he began shrugging off his cloak.

Hermione shook her head. "No, they didn't say anything about it. It's lovely, though, isn't it?"

It really was, decorated in warm reds and golds. It was tall enough that the star on top touched the ceiling, and beneath the tree and in front of the fireplace was a large, plush, white rug that made Hermione want to take off her shoes and socks just to feel it beneath her feet.

"Thinking what I'm thinking?" Tom asked lowly, suddenly standing directly behind her, warm hands on her hips.

Hermione shook her head as he leaned in to kiss her neck. She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access and moaned when he took her earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

"How fucking amazing you'd look spread out on that rug," Tom murmured into her ear. His hot breath washed over her, making her shiver.

"Don't tease," Hermione groaned when he began playing with the hem of her jumper.

"But you like it when I tease." He slid a finger beneath her jumper, trailing it along the skin of her abdomen, just above where her skirt sat on her hips.

"Tom," Hermione groaned, she rolled her head back onto his shoulder as his hands made quick work of her jumper. He moved them both forward a few steps and slid off her skirt and tights in a few practised motions.

Hermione turned in his arms, unbuttoning his shirt with quick fingers, pushing it off his shoulders before she began on his trousers. Then they were both naked, and Hermione stood on her tiptoes to draw him into a deep kiss.

"Lie down, darling," Tom murmured. Hermione complied, stretching out on the soft material of the rug. She raised her arms above her head, pulling her braid free to let her hair spill around her head.

"Fucking gorgeous," Tom whispered. His eyes were nearly black with lust.

Hermione smirked and arched her back, just catching sight of the Christmas tree above her. It was a move that Tom couldn't resist. A moment later, he was lying on top of her, covering as much of her skin as he could.

His hand went to the back of her neck as he pressed insistent kisses to her mouth, guiding her head in the way he needed. He had one leg between hers, and she wiggled, trying to get him to settle between her thighs.

"Impatient witch," Tom mumbled, pulling away from her mouth to begin kissing down her throat and toward her breasts.

"Tom," she moaned. He circled one peak with his mouth and used his fingers to tweak the other one. She held onto his head with one hand, the other was thrown above her, trying to gain whatever purchase she could against the rug as Tom slowly made his way down her body.

He settled himself between her thighs and began to lick and nip at her center. She loved when he did this, but at the same time, she was desperate for him to be inside her. She grasped his hair, trying to pull him up.

"Don't make me tie you up," Tom warned her.

"Just fuck me already," Hermione gasped when he upped the ante and slowly slid a finger in and out of her channel. "I can't take the teasing."

"Yes, you can," he assured her. "And you like it," he added, tapping her clit with his tongue.

Hermione arched her back as the tension wound tighter within. Tom wasn't completely wrong, she _did_ like it, but Merlin, she was _ready_ for a good hard fuck. She'd been ready for weeks, but Tom had been busy with work, then _she'd_ been busy. It was precisely why she'd picked Svalbard. She didn't want to go somewhere tropical where they'd have to be outside. She wanted to be inside, getting fucked for a week straight. Sounded like the perfect vacation to her.

Tom swiftly inserted two more fingers into her, and Hermione came hard and long.

She collapsed back onto the rug in a boneless pile once the aftershocks passed. "Fuck," she muttered.

"We certainly will," Tom promised with a cheeky smirk.

Hermione snorted and reached for him. She pressed herself to him once he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply. She squealed when he rolled them over, and she found herself sprawled across his chest.

"Ride me, witch," Tom breathed, and at once Hermione scrambled to straddle him. She braced herself against his chest, placing her hands on his pecs as he helped guide himself inside her. She slowly sank down onto his cock, savouring the way he filled her. She rocked her hips slowly, taking all of him, and her head fell forward.

"Merlin, that feels good," Hermione moaned. "I've needed this."

Tom hissed in agreement. He cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples. Hermione's breath hitched at the additional stimulation. She sped up her pace.

"That's it, darling. Fuck yourself," Tom breathed. Hermione pushed off from his chest and braced herself on his thighs behind her, arching her back slightly.

Tom's hands just barely reached her breasts from this angle, but Godric, his cock filled her so prettily. Its head hit her in just the right spot, and she found herself increasing her pace once more.

Tom's fingers pulled at her nipples, and it was as if an imaginary cord tied them to her core. Each tug and pull made her hips jerk. She brought a hand to her clit, circling quickly. She held herself with just one hand braced on Tom's thigh, moving her hips as fast as she dared, not willing to let him slide out of her even for a moment.

"Tom, please," Hermione cried out. She was so close, so ready to fall off that edge and into the bliss that waited for her on the other side, but she needed something. Something more. Tom placed a hand on her waist and helped her quicken her pace. He flexed his hips beneath her and suddenly she was coming again. She groaned loudly as wave after wave of her orgasm crested over her.

When she was finished, she collapsed onto Tom's chest. His cock was still hard, still buried inside her cunt, and she found she couldn't move, even as his hips continued their small movements.

"I love watching you fall apart on top of me," Tom murmured.

Hermione groaned in response, and Tom slowly pulled out of her and slid her off of him. He kept her on her stomach and moved so he was kneeling behind her, between her legs.

"Here we go, darling." Tom helped her get onto her knees. She buried her face into the rug as he entered her swiftly from behind. "That's it," Tom encouraged when she began rocking her hips in time with his.

Hermione arched her back as Tom took her from behind. She'd never tell him, but she loved this position the best. Letting him have his way with her was always such a huge turn on. The sounds his cock made as it sunk into her, over and over, were downright indecent, and she loved it.

"Tom," she groaned into her forearms as she pushed back against him. Tom wrapped one hand in her hair and the other around her chest before hauling her upright, her back flush to his chest. The Christmas tree twinkled in front of her. Tom's hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back to his shoulder. She reached her hands back as far as she could, holding onto his flank as he fucked her from below.

"Gorgeous," Tom hissed into her ear, kissing along her neck. The hand not gripping her hair, slid down her stomach, making its way down to her clit. Hermione bucked her hips at the first swipe of his fingers.

Hermione almost couldn't believe it, but impossibly, she felt herself tighten again as another orgasm approached. Tom's cock felt so good, buried deep inside her. She was panting at the way he swirled his fingers around her clit.

"Time to come," Tom grunted, hips pounding. He pinched her clit, rolling the bundle of nerves between two fingers, and Hermione found herself hurtled off the ledge. She came so hard, her vision went white.

"Fucking hell," Tom grunted, and Hermione felt him spasm inside her. They stilled for a moment before they both fell forward onto the rug. Hermione got her hands in front of her just in time to prevent injury. She giggled, and Tom wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"Happy Christmas, darling," he murmured in her ear.

"This is alright then?" Hermione asked. She wasn't terribly worried, but he'd complained _so_ much earlier in the day.

"Staying in a cabin, fucking you for a week? Yes, that's alright with me." Tom grinned at her.

"Good." Hermione smirked and pressed her lips to his once more.


	13. The Angel and the Harridan

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Hideaway Fest for the Hermione's Haven FB group. No beta except for Grammarly, so all mistakes are mine.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review!**

 **Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione/Severus**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione convinces Severus to spend Christmas Eve with the grandmother he hasn't seen in forty years.**

* * *

 **The Angel and the Harridan**

* * *

 _Christmas Eve, 2009_

* * *

Landing sharply, Severus grunted and pulled Hermione tighter into his side. Simultaneously, they dropped the Portkey, an old, moth-eaten mitten, to the snow-dusted earth below them. The wind swept off the North Atlantic and Severus inhaled deeply, it was a fresh, clean scent he'd always loved, even if he hated where he was now. He stiffened as he turned to face the city behind them.

"It'll be fine," Hermione assured him for perhaps the fifteenth time that day.

"I'm sure it will," Severus said with a conviction he did not feel. Hermione wasn't fooled though, she patted his arm reassuringly, and they began the trek to his grandmother's house along the Long Walk in Galway, Ireland, near the docks. The colorful houses were beautiful, even in the dead of winter, with snow dusting the tops of the houses, it was a lovely place. The grey sea, roiling angrily probably had something to do with that. Severus had always loved the sea. Manchester, land-locked as it was, was at least near enough to Liverpool that his mother had taken him a few times. She'd taken him to his grandmother's in Galway even fewer times.

"She'll be fine," Hermione said again. This time Severus detected nerves in her voice and he snorted under his breath. His grandmother was rarely _fine_. She was a mean old thing and spiteful to boot.

"You don't even know her," Severus reminded her dryly. Why had Hermione insisted on this insanity again? Severus had lived so many years without his grandmother in his life, he didn't need to go complicating things now.

"No, but she's your last living relative, Severus," Hermione said seriously, pausing and looking up at him with those doe eyes that Severus found he couldn't resist giving in to, for anything. He suspected Hermione knew that too, which is why she gave him the look so often. And the guilt at Hermione's own relatives, while being alive and well, had no idea they had a daughter on the other side of the world. He sighed and nodded as he guided them further along the path. His grandmother's house was nestled between two muggle homes in the middle of the Long Dock. Despite Galway being a sizable city, it was still Ireland, which made it rather small even compared to Manchester, let alone London where he and Hermione had taken up residence. It was almost quaint.

His grandmother's house looked the same as it had the last time he was there, almost forty years ago now. He had actually been surprised to find out that the old woman was still alive. The old, bitter resentment from when both of his parents died when he was sixteen and his grandmother hadn't even bothered to send him an owl swept through him, but he tamped it down for Hermione's sake. She wanted to spend holidays with family, even if he'd told her it was a terrible idea and that his family had always been full of terrible people. Hermione wouldn't take no for an answer once she'd found out that his grandmother was still living.

Severus hadn't told her about his grandmother's uncaring inaction when his parents died. He found that he often kept the most painful parts of his life away from her. He loved Hermione. He had for the last three years they'd been married, but she somehow seemed too pure to burden with the crap-shoot that had been his life. Hermione seemed to calm as they approached the house, she'd wrapped up a gift for his grandmother and had it tucked under her arm. It was a calm-blue rowhouse, but Severus knew it looked smaller on the outside than it was on the inside.

The door-knocker, a fierce-looking hawk, eyed them suspiciously. Severus definitely remembered _that_. It had bitten his mother's hand the last time she had taken him here. His grandmother had refused to treat it. More bitter resentment roiled through him and Severus found himself swallowing it all back down again. He still had no idea why he was subjecting himself to this.

Hermione knocked smartly on the door, without using the knocker.

"Hey lassie, that's what I'm for!" the knocker shouted at her. Hermione flinched but otherwise ignored the knocker. "And don't think I don't remember who _you_ are," the knocker sneered in Severus's direction. Severus sneered back at it but kept his mouth shut. He wasn't about to get into an argument with a door knocker of all things.

The door opened slowly and a small house-elf dressed in a tiny butlers uniform stood there. "May I help you?" the house elf's diction was perfect and he eyed them both with disdain.

"It's Severus, Tootle," Severus said to the house-elf.

"I do not know a _Severus_ ," Tootle said. "My mistress is not receiving callers today."

Severus rolled his eyes and pushed his way past the tiny creature.

"Severus!" Hermione hissed from behind him, but he ignored her and grabbed her hand, yanking her forward before the door knocker or Tootle could slam the door in her face.

"Grandmother!" Severus shouted as he headed into the sitting room to the left of the front door. "I've come for a visit!"

"Severus!" Hermione whispered. "No need to be so rude! We should have waited to be invited in!"

His grandmother was predictably sitting in her chair before the fireplace in the sitting room. Her iron-grey hair piled on top of her head in an impeccably.

"Severus." Her voice sounded as if she'd swallowed gravel. "What a surprise." She sounded neither surprised nor happy that he was here.

"Grandmother," Severus said. Finally, the old witch stood from her chair and turned to face them.

"And you brought a witch. You're married I assume?" She used her cane to cross the space and stand before them. Even standing almost a head taller than her, Severus felt like the nine-year-old boy he had been the last time he'd seen her.

"Hermione Snape," Hermione said, holding her hand out for his grandmother. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Prince."

"Charmed," his grandmother said, not taking Hermione's hand. "And how long have you been married? Couldn't invite an old woman to your wedding?" She addressed the last bit to Severus.

Severus sighed. "We didn't invite _anyone_ to the wedding, Grandmother."

" _Pah_ , how plebeian. An elopement."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Severus tightened his hand around hers in warning.

"Mrs. Prince, I brought you a gift. You have a lovely Christmas tree," Hermione said, mentioning the towering pine in the corner of the room.

"Oh, well, let's see what it is then." His grandmother grabbed the box from Hermione, rather rudely in Severus's opinion, but Hermione smiled sweetly at the older woman.

She unwrapped the gift quickly, throwing the paper to the floor, which disappeared the moment it touched the floor, courtesy of Tootle, who was hovering about the door. Severus noticed that his grandmother had not invited them to sit or ordered tea. He sighed, very quietly, so that neither woman would hear, but they both appeared to have done so as his grandmother glared at him and Hermione tightened her hand around his own.

Grandmother tore the box open and inside was a Christmas tree-topper, an angel to be precise. He raised his eyes. When had Hermione picked that out?

"It was my own grandmother's," Hermione said quietly. Severus squeezed her hand once more, this time in support.

"Oh, and isn't it a lovely angel. Just like you, my dear," his grandmother said, a soft smile on her face. Severus had never seen her look anything other than severe and disapproving, and here she was bestowing an almost fond look on Hermione. "Put it on top of the tree, would you, Severus?" She handed him the angel without looking at him. The moment he let go of Hermione's hand, his grandmother swept her along to sit before the fire and called for tea from Tootle.

Despite the cold treatment he was getting, Severus thought this was going much better than it had any right to. He did as his grandmother bade and placed the angel on top of her tree.

"Doesn't that look lovely?" Grandmother smiled encouragingly at Hermione. Hermione smiled beatifically back.

"Your tree was already very pretty, Mrs. Prince" Hermione said. "The angel looks perfect atop it."

"Indeed it does, child. And I insist you call me Helen, all my friends do. Now, tell me, how did you come to be married to such a sullen boy like Severus?" She cast Severus a baleful glare and Severus stifled a sigh. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

Several hours, insults, and a meal later, and his grandmother was pressing for them to stay the night to celebrate the holiday properly the next day.

"We couldn't impose," Hermione said kindly.

For a moment, Severus thought that they were going to get out of the obligation. That Hermione would work her charming magic on his grandmother and they'd be free to return home.

" _Pah_ , nonsense. I insist! It's Christmas, a time for family. You're the only family I have left." His hopes were crushed. He didn't miss the way that his grandmother had decided _Hermione_ was the only family she had left. Hadn't said a word about him. Unless it was to insult him.

"Come," his grandmother said. "I've had Tootle make up a guest room for you."

Hermione bestowed him with a small kiss on the cheek and a grin as they followed his grandmother up the stairs to the second floor. There were five closed doors on the second floor, and Grandmother turned to the one on the left side of the stairs. She opened it and gestured them inside. Hermione stepped in, but then Grandmother blocked his entrance.

"This room is for Hermione, Severus. Your room is down the hall." She pointed vaguely in the opposite direction.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "Hermione is _my_ wife, madam. I shall stay in the same room as her."

Grandmother whirled on him and pointed her finger into his chest as he glared down at her. "Not in my house you won't!"

"Helen, please," Hermione said. "I have nightmares, and not having Severus with me, would probably only increase them. I wouldn't want to disturb _your_ sleep."

Severus folded his arms across his chest and glared some more. This was the absolute last time he was subjected himself to this awful woman.

" _Pah_ , fine. Bathroom's next door," his grandmother grumbled as she hobbled out of the room and down the hall. "But no hanky-panky!" she called over her shoulder.

Severus shuddered. He was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to even get hard being in this harridan's house.

"Well," Hermione smiled at him. "She's a bit of a handful."

"A bit! She's a harpy," Severus grumbled as he began loosening his cravat. Hermione stepped close and began pushing buttons through their holes of his frock coat.

"She's probably lonely, Severus," Hermione said kindly.

"You think good of everyone," Severus complained as she pushed the coat from his shoulders and began attacking his vest and his shirt beneath. It turned out that he had been wrong about the erection. His cock began stirring with interest as his wife continued to undress him.

"She said no hanky-panky," Hermione hummed, brushing her hand down his cock. Severus huffed a breath. His cock twitched, wanting to be touched again.

"I haven't listened to anything she's said in the last forty-nine years, not that it's been much, why would I start now?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed an insistent kiss on her lips. It appeared Hermione didn't care about listening to his grandmother either as she hurriedly stripped out of her own clothes. Severus let the rest of his drop to the floor before pressing Hermione back to the sumptuous sleigh bed that dominated the room. It creaked and groaned horrifically.

"Merlin," Hermione muttered. She pulled away with wide, horrified eyes.

" _Accio_ , wand," Severus said, holding his hand out. His wand wiggled its way free of the arm holster buried in his shirt on the floor and landed in his hand. He cast a silencing spell at the bed, the floorboards, the walls, the door, and ceiling.

"I think that's plenty," Hermione said.

Then Severus cast one last spell, a locking charm combined with a ward to repel anyone from entering the room.

"There," he rumbled and bent to kiss Hermione again.

Despite the silencing spells, the bed groaned some, but not nearly as loud as it had. Severus applied himself to making both him and Hermione forget about the crone down the hall.

Later that night, Severus decided that if he had to visit his grandmother each year, at least he had Hermione there to be the balm his soul and ego needed. He gasped as her lips finally closed around his hardened cock. Pushing his hands through Hermione's hair he kept his hips as still as he could, while she did her best to make him call out for release. Yes, if this was the treatment he received, he'd happily do this every year.


	14. The Reunion

**A/N: Written for Strictly Dramione's Valentine's Day Smut Fest! The prompt was:**

 **Hermione sets out to woo Draco, deciding to use some of the 129 tips on how to find a husband as printed in an old edition of Witch Weekly from 1958. Needless to say, the suggestions are sexist, archaic, and downright hilarious.**

 **My specific prompt was:**

 **Prompt number 23 - Go to all reunions of your high school or college class. There may be widowers there.**

 **No beta other than Grammarly, all mistakes are mine! Enjoy! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review!**

 **Pairing: Hermione/Draco**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione Granger has been thirsting after Draco Malfoy for at least a year. She has been trying to woo him, using some not-so-great techniques from an old 1950's version of Witch Weekly. Technique number 23 appears to be the one that finally works for her.**

* * *

 **The Reunion**

* * *

 _February 2014_

* * *

"You could talk to him you know?" Ginny Potter murmured into Hermione Granger's ear.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione muttered, tearing her eyes away from the delicious image that was Draco Malfoy. "He made it perfectly clear when we were teenagers that he wanted nothing to do with people like me."

"Pah, that was ages ago," Ginny waved her hand. "Besides, he's fucking fit these days."

"I'm aware," Hermione said miserably. Somehow her eyes made it back to the fine form that was Draco Malfoy. She stifled a sigh as she watched the way he laughed with his mates.

"What number are you on?" Ginny asked.

"Number twenty-three." Hermione didn't elaborate.

"Which is…?"

"Go to all reunions of your high school or college class. There may be widowers there."

"How fitting," Ginny smirked. "The reunion is in two weeks _and_ Astoria's been dead for close to ten years. I hear he doesn't even _date_. He's probably just as thirsty as you are."

"Merlin, woman? Must you use such language?" Hermione complained as Ginny laughed.

"Let's get you a drink," Ginny said raising her hand to flag down the bartender. "What are you going to wear?"

"I have no idea," Hermione mumbled. Her eyes seemed to stray to where Malfoy was sitting once more. He laughed at something Nott had said and Hermione's insides squirmed at the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Ginny was right, she was _damned_ thirsty for Malfoy.

"We should go shopping," Ginny suggested as the server finally made his way to their table. The pub was crowded, even for a Thursday. "Two gin and tonics," Ginny told the server, naming their favorite drink.

"I hate shopping," Hermione said. She was still watching Malfoy.

"You need to stop staring," Ginny replied. "He's going to figure it out eventually."

Hermione snorted. She'd been nursing this little obsession with Malfoy for the better part of a year and a half and he hadn't figured it out. It was unlikely he would suddenly come to the conclusion now. Nothing she'd done had changed in all that time, except the amount of time she looked at him. They ran in different circles, although wizarding London wasn't that big, so inevitably she found herself in the same establishments as him at least once a week.

"I mean, if I felt someone stare at me the way you ogle him, I'd definitely feel it," Ginny murmured.

"Mmm-hmm," Hermione hummed. Malfoy and Nott were now chugging their beers and a small bit had slipped out the side of his mouth. Hermione wondered what it would taste like if she licked it.

"Godric's sake woman, get ahold of yourself," Ginny complained, elbowing Hermione in the shoulder.

"What?" Hermione finally tore her gaze from the object of her affections and looked at Ginny, who was smirking at her.

"You haven't heard a word I said."

"Ugh, shut up!" Hermione complained and was pleased when the bartender set their drinks before them. She tossed him a couple of galleons and took a big sip. She resolved to pay more attention to Ginny and less to Malfoy. It was ridiculous the way she was mooning over him. Honestly, when this whole thing had started, she had no idea it would have lasted as long as it had.

"You just need to get him out of your system," Ginny suggested. "Let's go shopping, get you a banging dress, and then you can bag him at the reunion." Ginny's grin was wicked and while Hermione liked the sound of the plan, the idea of somehow snagging Malfoy at their Hogwarts class reunion seemed a little impossible.

"Tell me again why the reunion is on Valentine's Day?" Hermione asked.

"Well, it's convenient it's a Friday this year," Ginny said. "And there is some extensive repair work happening at the castle over the summer."

"Right, but Valentine's Day? It's just so lurid, so contrived."

"Only because you are thinking with her pussy."

"You are disgusting." Hermione rolled her eyes and found them wandering back to Malfoy. Who was now standing and donning his cloak. Somehow, despite watching him all night and lusting after him for longer than she cared to admit, the thought of him leaving was a little bit of a relief.

"I'll be at your house bright and early at ten tomorrow morning," Ginny said, finishing her drink.

"Ten isn't early," Hermione frowned.

"It is for me. No kids remember?" Ginny laughed and donned her own cloak. She squeezed Hermione's shoulder and exited the pub just after Malfoy and his mates. Hermione stayed for another drink before she too left for the night.

* * *

Hermione tugged at the dark red dress Ginny had forced on her a few weeks ago. The Great Hall was full of people she should be delighted to catch up with, but she was standing outside the doors afraid to go in. They'd all been given suites in the guest wing of Hogwarts. It was a wing Hermione hadn't ever really known existed until this reunion. She normally didn't attend these things.

"Planning to go in?" a deep voice behind her asked. She whirled around to find the object of her lust standing directly behind her. He had on his customary black robes and his blond hair was cut short on the sides, but artfully arranged to fall over his eyes. She stared at him for a long moment, just drinking him in.

"Uh, Granger?" Malfoy said, his cheeks reddened a bit and Hermione realized she had been staring with her mouth hanging open. She snapped it closed and turned away from him. She began hauling on the door to the Great Hall to open it, but Malfoy stepped closer behind her. "Let me get that for you," he breathed into her hair.

Hermione was sure that the moan that threatened to escape her lips didn't actually escape her lips. Well, she was reasonably sure anyway. She stood there for a long moment as Malfoy held the door open for her.

"After you," he said.

"Right," Hermione whispered. She squared her shoulders and strode into the chaos that was Hogwarts at Valentine's Day. There were floating pink and red hearts everywhere. The candles were all blood red and there were streamers and little cupid-shaped fairies. She shuddered at the sight of it all.

"It's a little much," Malfoy murmured. Hermione nodded her agreement, her face twisted into a sneer of disgust at the display before. The four house tables were gone, with a smattering of smaller roundtables around the walls of the hall. A large space had been left open in the middle of the hall for dancing. A bar had been set up where the head table normally stood and Hermione decided that was what she needed most of all at this moment. She flashed a small smile of thanks or something like it at Malfoy before taking off into the crowd. There was no way she was going to be recovering from that anytime soon, so she might as well drown her sorrows.

"Did I see you walking in with Malfoy?" Ginny asked the glee in her voice was barely concealed.

"Sort of," Hermione admitted, finishing her first gin and tonic and setting it down on the bar, indicating she needed a refill to the bartender.

"Well, either you did or you didn't," Ginny said.

"He came up behind me as I was steeling myself to open the door and then he just looked so bloody gorgeous. I stared at him, Ginny. In his face, I just stared with my mouth hanging open like a complete imbecile."

Ginny didn't have the grace to not laugh in Hermione's face at that. She doubled over with giggles and would have fallen to the floor entirely if Hermione hadn't grabbed her arm to keep her upright.

"Oh, you've got it bad," Ginny said once she'd somewhat recovered from her fit of laughter.

"I'm aware," Hermione said tightly, taking a large drink over her refilled beverage.

"Maybe you should slow down on those," Ginny suggested.

"Maybe if I have enough of them, I won't remember how this awful evening began," Hermione groused.

"Hoo boy, you're in one of those moods, eh?"

"Don't start with me, Gin," Hermione snapped.

Hermione waved the bartender down, ignoring Ginny as she suggested perhaps all Hermione needed was a good hard—

"Don't you finish that sentence," Hermione threatened Ginny with a finger in her face.

Hermione passed a stack of Galleons to the bartender. "Give me the bottle of gin."

The bartender thought about it for a moment, before passing it over. Hermione continued to ignore Ginny as she turned from the bar with the bottle in her hand and headed toward a table in the corner. She couldn't leave now, her absence would be noticed, but at least she could get rip-roaring drunk. That would definitely not solve a single problem, but it would at least make her feel less embarrassed about it all.

"Merlin, Hermione, I really don't—"

"If you aren't sitting down to finish this bottle with me, you can bugger right off," Hermione told Ginny as she plopped down into a chair at an empty table. She propped her feet up on the chair across from her and poured herself a shot.

"Right, I'll go mingle and come back to check on you then," Ginny said with a frown.

"You do that," Hermione grumbled under her breath.

She was on her third shot when someone dropped into the chair next to her. A glance out of the corner of her eye told her it was Malfoy. Because of course, it was. Nothing was going to go right for Hermione tonight. She shouldn't have come at all.

She poured herself a fourth shot when Malfoy coughed.

"Did you need something?" Hermione asked.

"Just wondering if you were going to share." Malfoy grinned at her.

"Got a glass?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and flicked his wand and another shot glass appeared on the table. Hermione poured him a shot and then lifted her glass. They clinked them together and each took their shot, slamming the glasses on the table when they were finished.

"Gin? Really?" Malfoy asked with a slight cough.

"Got a problem with it?" Hermione retorted.

"Not at all, just imagined you were more of a whiskey girl."

"You don't know what kind of _woman_ I am," Hermione said her emphasis on the woman clear. She lifted her eyebrow at him. The alcohol was clearly giving her the bravery she hadn't felt earlier.

Malfoy laughed. It was low and warmed Hermione's belly more than the gin already had. "I stand corrected, Granger."

Hermione hummed her response and turned her gaze back on the dance floor. There were people dancing now unlike when she had walked in and people had just been milling about.

"Why are you hiding in the corner?" Malfoy asked.

"Why are you?" Hermione's reply was perhaps sharper than she had intended.

"Touché," Malfoy said with a smirk.

They were both silent for a while and Hermione was trying to decide if she should say something or continue to ignore him. Ignoring him had its benefits, but it didn't help her ultimate goals. Which, if she were honest with herself was to get laid. More would be great, but she'd settle on a night of great sex.

"I'm hiding here because I hate these things," Malfoy finally offered up. "And because I saw you had somehow scored an entire bottle of alcohol from the bar."

He poured them both another shot, it was definitely more than Hermione needed, but what the hell. It wasn't every day she found herself drinking with the hottest wizard from her year. Merlin, Ginny was right, she was _thirsty_.

"I also hate these things," Hermione offered.

"Why did you come then?"

 _Because I knew you would be here_ , she thought. "Ginny made me," she said.

"Always do everything your friends want you too?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione laughed. "Have you met me? Or my friends? That was my entire childhood."

"Fair enough," Malfoy said. His grin was almost affectionate and Hermione found herself getting lost in his gaze for the second time that night. His icy grey eyes had always fascinated her and now they drew her in.

"How about another?" Malfoy asked.

"Alright," Hermione breathed. She knew she really shouldn't have another, but how could she say no to that lopsided grin he had. The one that had always made her insides flip so deliciously.

Malfoy poured and Hermione clinked her glass to his, downing the drink and regretting it almost instantly when her stomach wanted to protest.

"Oh, maybe that wasn't such a good idea," Hermione groaned and stood, wobbling slightly.

"Woah, Granger, you alright?" Malfoy also stood, grabbing her arm to steady her.

"Yeah, I think maybe just the ladies," she smiled at him faintly and made her way out of the Great Hall. The ladies and probably back to her room. She really wasn't feeling all that well. Had she remembered to pack a Sober Up potion?

Blissfully, the girls' loo was empty. Hermione splashed some water on her face and began digging through her handbag. She did come across a vial of Sober Up but the expiration date on it was last week. It would be good enough she decided and swallowed it down.

She felt less queasy which was positive, but she still felt drunk, which if she was honest, wasn't so bad. She smiled at herself in the mirror and sauntered out of the bathroom to head back to the Great Hall. Malfoy was waiting for her outside of the bathroom.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, grinning at him.

"Just seeing how you were feeling," Malfoy responded with a grin of his own. He stepped closer to her. Hermione found herself taking a step back from him.

"I'm just peachy," Hermione replied.

"Really? Because it seemed to me that you had a bit too much to drink, Granger." Malfoy took a step closer and Hermione found herself with her back against the wall.

"And if I had, what would this be?" Hermione asked, waving her hand to indicate whatever it was that was going on between them.

"Gentlemanly concern," Malfoy's grin was anything but gentlemanly and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"Well, I did take a Sober Up potion…"

"Even better," Malfoy breathed, suddenly his face was right in front of hers and Hermione was definitely not breathing now.

"But it was expired and I still feel drunk," Hermione said in a rush.

Malfoy chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Raincheck then."

He walked off down the hallway and Hermione felt like kicking herself. He'd been right there, practically offering himself to her and she had to go and ruin it by telling him the truth. Fuck, what was her problem?

"Malfoy?" she called out before she could stop herself.

"Granger?" he drawled as he turned slowly to face her.

"What if I had an unexpired Sober Up potion in my room?" Hermione felt like an idiot for asking, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"I'd say lead the way then," Malfoy said with a grin.

Hermione's lips twitched and she turned on her heel to head back to the guest wing. She hoped he was following her, but didn't look behind her to check. If he was, she didn't necessarily want to give away that she was worried that he wouldn't be. It was convoluted, but she hoped that he was following her. Her heels clicked loudly as she strode through the empty corridors. The guest wing was west of the Great Hall and not too terribly far away. When she reached her room, she pulled her wand from her purse and pointed it at the lock. A pair of hands settled on Hermione's shoulders. Apparently, Malfoy had followed her. She smirked and pushed open the door to her room, leading Malfoy inside.

"Funny, I'm just down the hall," Malfoy murmured as he stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

Hermione didn't respond, she headed toward the en suite bathroom where she'd stored her cosmetics bag. She was almost positive she had packed at least one vial of Sober Up, but hopefully, she had two. One for her and one for Malfoy. A quick rummage later and she did come up with two vials. She turned to go back to the main room to find Malfoy was staring at her bed.

"I've got two," Hermione said triumphantly and kicked off her heels.

"And these aren't expired?" Malfoy responded, raising one eyebrow.

Hermione double checked the date on the bottom of the vials. "Nope, they expire in two months time."

"Well," Malfoy smirked and held out his hand. Hermione dropped one of the bottles into his hand and uncorked the other. They clinked them together and drank them down. Hermione's slight buzz disappeared immediately and her anxiety about what they were ostensibly supposed to be doing next increased exponentially.

Malfoy must have picked something up in her expression. "Granger, if you don't want to do this we don't—"

"No!" Hermione shouted. "No, I, uh, want to, it's just been a while."

Malfoy nodded, he too looked a little nervous. "It's been a while for me too," he admitted, his cheeks brightening. Hermione thought he looked adorable when he was embarrassed.

"So we can take it slow," Hermione said, stepping closer to him.

"Alright," Malfoy agreed readily. "We can take it slow."

"And if you hate it, we can stop," Hermione whispered as Malfoy slipped his arms around her waist.

Malfoy snorted. "That seems bloody unlikely." He lowered his face and slowly, softly pressed his lips to Hermione's. The kiss was slow, just as they agreed, but still, Hermione could feel Malfoy holding back. There was a spark there between them that traveled from her lips down to her core. He tasted like the slight spearmint of the Sober Up potion and Hermione whimpered as he nipped at her bottom lip. She wrapped her arms around his neck, diving one hand through his hair and relishing how soft it was beneath her fingertips.

Malfoy's lips left hers and began trailing down her jaw and neck.

"Slow enough?" Malfoy asked, nibbling on the lobe of her ear.

"Yeah," Hermione panted. She slid her hand down to his shoulders and pushed his robes from them. "Maybe we could go a little faster."

Malfoy's chuckle vibrated in her ear, sending delicious shivers down her spine and heating her core. "I can do faster," he murmured. His fingers tightened around her waist and Hermione found her lips captured by his once more. This kiss was different from their first. The softness was gone, but the passion was tenfold. She found she couldn't get enough of him. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and were undoing them one at a time even as their kiss continued.

He broke from her when she reached the bottom of his shirt and pulled the tails from his trousers.

"Someone was busy," Malfoy murmured, trailing his fingers along Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione snorted. "You are wearing far more clothes than I am."

"Good point," Malfoy said. Then he spun her around and slipped the zipper down the back of her dress in the same movement.

"Well," Hermione said as her dress fell to the floor and she was standing in just her strapless bra and knickers. Malfoy's hands settled on her hips and Hermione found herself leaning back into his bare chest.

"I knew you were fucking gorgeous," Malfoy breathed into her ear. He gathered her hair off to one shoulder and began planting kisses along the opposite one. His hard length was pressed into the small of her back. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and slowly worked them down her thighs. Hermione stepped out of them and turned around to face him once more.

"You're still overdressed," she told him as she pulled at his belt. She unbuckled it and began unbuttoning the placard of his trousers.

"You're so concerned with that, aren't you?" he grinned at her, running a hand down her flank.

"Equality is important," Hermione said primly as she pushed his trousers down his hips. He toed off his boots and stepped out of the trousers. He was just in his boxer briefs and Hermione reached behind her to unlatch her bra. He shucked off his pants just as she let her bra fall to the floor.

"I'm certainly not disappointed in how this evening is going," Malfoy breathed reaching for her once more. He cupped a breast in one hand and Hermione groaned as her head fell back and he thumbed her nipple into a point. "I always knew you'd have killer tits," Malfoy hummed and bent his head, taking the nipple into his mouth. Hermione's groan turned into a whimper and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in order to keep herself relatively upright. Malfoy overbalanced and after a quick shuffle of their feet they caught themselves before anyone hit the floor.

"Bed," Hermione suggested.

"Bed," Malfoy agreed. He walked her backward and when the back of her legs hit the bed, she tumbled onto it. Malfoy scrambled on top of her and in a moment his mouth was back on her nipple and Hermione was groaning and arching her back, clutching his head to her chest. Her hips flexed, searching for some sort of friction but there was nothing until Malfoy's hand trailed down her stomach and cupped her mound. This time when she flexed her hips, her clit rubbed deliciously against his palm and a finger slid between her nether lips.

"More," Hermione panted. "I need more."

Malfoy grinned around her nipple before tweaking it between his teeth. Then he licked his way to her other nipple as a finger slid inside her cunt finally giving her something to clench on. Hermione's hands flexed against his back, her nails dragging along his skin as he pumped first one finger in and out of her and then adding a second. His thumb kept a maddeningly slow circle around her clit that had Hermione gasping.

"Fucking love your tits," Malfoy breathed into the valley between them and Hermione laughed. Her laugh turned to a moan when he added a third finger inside her tight channel.

"Malfoy," Hermione whined.

"Draco," he murmured into her skin.

"Draco," she agreed and his thumb pressed so deliciously on her clit that stars exploded behind her eyes and her back arched off the bed. "Draco!" she shouted as her pussy clenched around all three of his fingers.

"That was gorgeous," Malfoy said as he placed a kiss against her throat. He slowly removed his hand and settled his hips between her legs. Hermione drew her own legs up, cradling him and wrapping her feet around his thighs. His cock was heavy against the inside of her thigh and Hermione found herself flexing her hips again.

"You sure about this?" Malfoy asked, peering into her eyes.

Hermione laughed. "Bit late for that isn't it? Already made me come."

"Yeah, I did," Malfoy grinned. "You liked it."

"Yeah, I did," Hermione agreed. She slipped a hand up to cup his cheek and his closed his eyes as he leaned into her palm. "I need you to fuck me."

"Never thought you'd ask," Malfoy murmured. He opened his eyes briefly to line himself up, his head just at her opening and Hermione tilted her hips so he would slide inside. He inched forward until he was fully seated and they both groaned at the sensation. Hermione's nipples tightened. There was nothing like the fullness of a cock inside her. There was no comparison to how good he felt.

Malfoy dropped his forehead to hers and their breath mingled before Hermione lifted her head and kissed him. Malfoy kissed her fiercly as his hips began to move, slowly at first. So slowly that Hermione rather thought this was bordering on making love than fucking. Not that she completely minded. She'd been lusting after Malfoy for so long, she'd take him any way she could get him.

Malfoy's hands grabbed each of hers, holding them above her head as he stretched along her length. Their faces were so close Hermione closed her eyes against his icy gaze.

"Open your eyes," Malfoy said and Hermione bit her lip as her eyelids fluttered open. The utter rawness in his gaze was enough to make Hermione gasp. The feel of his body over hers, his skin sliding against hers, and the push and pull of his cock inside her was driving her completely mad. Sex had never been like this before, there was never this much emotion with any of her previous partners. Malfoy's eyes were boring into her and Hermione felt laid bare before him, like he knew all her secrets and accepted them. It was heady. It was intoxicating. Hermione matched him stroke for stroke and when she canted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist, he drove deeper inside her.

"Draco," Hermione gasped when he began hitting that sweet spot inside her, the one she could never manage on her own.

His pace increased as he grasped both of her hands in one of his. The other trailed down and grasped Hermione's face, willing her to keep looking at him. She'd never had sex like this before, staring into someone's eyes and it was exhilarating and hypnotic.

"Hermione," he groaned and holding her face tightly he pressed his lips to hers, finally closing those grey eyes that seemed to pierce into her soul. His kiss was frantic and addicting as his tongue mimicked his cock. Hermione was right on the precipice when his pace increased further and she felt herself shatter around him. She couldn't keep up with the rhythm of his hips or his lips as her body ignited and clenched around him.

"Fuck," he breathed as he pulled away, dropping his head into her shoulder. A few final thrusts and he came inside her with a low groan. He freed her hands and dropped down on top of her. Hermione ran her hands up and down his back as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Well then," Hermione said finally.

Malfoy chuckled. "That was something, alright."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "I could do that again." She hoped she wasn't overstepping, but Merlin, that had been fucking fantastic and she could absolutely stand to do that again.

Malfoy's laugh vibrated her entire body as he rolled over onto his side, bringing her with him.

"Give me a few minutes before demanding a repeat performance, witch," he murmured into her hair as he arranged her back to his chest.

Hermione smiled happily as she clutched one of his hands to her chest. Coming to the reunion may have been the best thing she'd ever done.

* * *

Hermione was warm all over when she woke up and there was something hard poking her in the bum. She stretched with a yawn and rolled over to come face to face with a sleeping Malfoy. He had moved when she did and was now lying on his back.

Hermione moved the sheet off of him and since he was still asleep, she placed a light kiss on his chest. He still didn't move. Grinning, Hermione kissed her way down his chest and stomach, appreciating his form before settling between his legs. He still hadn't woken. Or he had and was waiting to see how far she took this. She placed a kiss on the head of his hard cock, eyeing him through her lashes. He sighed, his head tossing against the pillow. She licked him from root to head and he groaned low in the back of his throat.

Opening her mouth wide, she slid his cock as far as she could into her mouth and she was rewarded with a hand in her hair, tightening as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.

"Fucking, Merlin, Hermione," Malfoy grunted.

Hermione hummed around him and his hips twitched, his cock hardened further in her mouth. She rolled his balls in one hand and slid her lips down his length again. This time as she came up she pressed her tongue along the underside of his cock quite heavily.

The hand in her hair tightened and his hips jerked as he came with a low groan. Hermione swallowed it all, cleaning his cock entirely before she placed a kiss on the tip of it.

"Get up here, witch," Malfoy urged, pulling her up his body.

She folded her hands on his chest and grinned at him.

"Morning," she said cheerfully.

"Bloody good one," Malfoy grinned and pulled her further up his body to plant a kiss on her lips. "You can wake me up like that any time you want."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hermione murmured back. She hoped that meant this wasn't going to be a one-time thing. Merlin help her, but she needed this to not be a one-time thing.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Malfoy asked.

 _~Fin~_


	15. Upstairs

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den Secret Admirer gift exchange! The prompt was: Cupid is down on his luck and thinking of getting out of the love business altogether after a series of failed matching. Someone tries to help bring back Cupid's love of love.**

 **Alpha/Beta love to brownlark42 and** **BirdieMing. Thanks, ladies!**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Theo Nott/Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood**

 **Summary: Theo has been shipping his friends for years, but when he attempts to ship Harry and Luna, all of his efforts fail.**

* * *

 **Upstairs**

* * *

In Theo Nott's opinion, the best part about owning a pub like the White Knight was the opportunity for people watching. Though there had been a point several years ago when he began to suspect that people watching wasn't quite doing it for him anymore, he soon decided to get involved in a scheme that was too lurid for him to ever tell another soul about. Shipping, he called it. A shortened term for relationship. Essentially, he looked at the people around him and decided who he thought would work best in a relationship before doing his damnedest to make it happen.

He nodded to Draco as he and his wife, Hermione, sat at a table. They were his first experiment, and if he were honest with himself, the easiest of the lot.

His first tactic was always a drinking contest, which was quite Slytherin of him because he offered the snookered couple a place to sleep afterward. He didn't bother informing either one of them that there was only one room available with only one bed inside. He wasn't a complete creep though. Two vials of Sober-Up potion were always on the nightstand.

Draco and Hermione had been married for four years already. The drinking contest gambit worked on quite a few of Theo's other regulars. Daphne and Blaise fell for it, as did Pansy and Percy Weasley of all people.

Some of his customers required a few additional…nudges. Ron Weasley was adamantly against Astoria Greengrass based entirely on the fact that she was a Slytherin. Of course, that didn't stop Weasley from staring at her any time he didn't think anyone else was looking. The drinking contest led to a Ron Weasley who was too pissed to even bother with the Sober-Up before passing out. Theo tried a different ploy: mistletoe. It was right around the holidays when he was working on Weasley and Astoria, so no one found the enchanted mistletoe unusual, especially when he complained some unnamed employee had brought it in. Nobody suspected him. Thankfully, the enchanted mistletoe worked and Weasley proposed to Astoria a year later.

Millie and Hannah were quite a different story. It took Theo no less than a year of contrivances to get them to admit their feelings for the other, plus an additional two months to encourage Millie to ask Hannah out. Theo wasn't the least bit surprised it had been Millie who was the aggressor there. She'd always been an assertive sort. What surprised him was the tenacity with which Hannah had held on to her relationship with Millie through the thick and thin over the last few years. Same-sex couples were still on the taboo side of the wizarding world. Well, in the British wizarding world. Theo had spent many a summer in France, and the LGBTQI community was thriving as a subset of the larger wizarding community there.

Theo frowned as he watched Harry Potter walk into the pub and order himself a drink before settling at the Malfoys' table. Potter had always been a tough nut to crack. Theo didn't think too hard about how well Potter filled out his Auror robes, although Theo definitely noticed when he chucked them off and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He looked away before he embarrassed himself by looking at _forearms_ of all things.

Theo had tried the drinking gambit on Potter with several witches and hadn't had any success. Luna Lovegood was his most recent witch he shipped with Potter. He'd been at it for more than six months and nothing he tried worked thus far. The drinking gambit, which worked on the majority of couples he set up had failed spectacularly when Luna decided she'd rather Apparate herself home and splinched herself in the process. Theo still felt twinges of guilt when he caught sight of Luna's left hand. They'd managed to save all of her fingers, but there were still scars.

His trivia night pair-up scheme hadn't worked either, neither had mistletoe over the holidays a couple of months ago. He was still trying to decide what he ought to try for Valentine's day in two weeks, but he was determined to figure something out. Whatever that something was, it was the last shot for Potter and Luna. If that didn't get them together, Theo knew he had to try someone different for them both.

Luna entered the pub then, and Theo sighed. She was so ethereal, almost like a creature who did not truly belong on earth and was only gracing them with their presence. Why wasn't she interested in Potter? Didn't she see what Theo saw in him? Luna made her way to Theo's usual table in the back, where he had receipts and parchmentwork spread out to discourage anyone from sitting with him.

"Hello, Theodore." Luna smiled in a way that made his heart feel lighter.

"Luna, what brings you by this evening?"

Luna shrugged. "Someone got a promotion, I think?" She didn't look too concerned. That was another thing Theo liked about Luna. She just didn't give any fucks, and it was glorious.

"See you." Luna smiled again, floating away toward the table occupied by the Malfoys and Potter. Potter lifted his beer toward Theo in a silent salute. Theo nodded in return and turned back to the parchment in front of him. What was he going to do about Valentine's day this year?

* * *

"Cupids?" Pansy asked with distaste. "That's so…"

"Tacky?" Percy suggested. Theo sighed. He was out of ideas and Valentine's day was in three days.

"They are already booked," Theo said. "Besides, it's too late to change it now."

"You could cancel them and just offer half off drinks," Pansy suggested. Her nose was still wrinkled in disgust.

"Well, it's not like they'll bother you and Percy," Theo said. "They will only seek out the single. Or rather, that's what they're supposed to do."

"What exactly are they?" Percy asked. It was a valid question. The wizarding world was full of many different sorts of creatures, but Cupids were not actually classified as creatures.

"They are fairies that someone crossed with garden gnomes," Theo said. He pulled out the brochure he found stuffed under his door a week ago and showed it to them.

"Oh, gross." Pansy grimaced. "They are basically garden gnomes with wings. They're pests, Theo!"

"I spoke with the owner!" Theo protested. "He said they are very well behaved and well trained."

"Don't you remember second year?" Pansy asked. "With Lockhart and the Pixies?"

"But these are fairies."

"Same thing," Percy said. His face always looked like something smelled foul, but his expression now was even more pronounced.

"Well, it's too late." Theo was sick of arguing about it. He wished he hadn't brought it up at all, but he'd been having second thoughts. He had hoped that Pansy and Percy would see his side, but it was clear they didn't. Maybe he should have asked someone who was single.

"Whatever, we'll be here to watch the place burn then," Pansy said. Her smile was sweet, but her tone was mean. Theo glared at her. It would be fine. It had to be.

* * *

It was not fine. The 'cupids' wreaked havoc across the establishment, and Pansy's prediction of fire wasn't too far off the mark when a back booth had gone up in flames. They'd been able to get it under control before the rest of the pub went up, but it was a near thing and it cleared out about half the patrons on what should have been one of the busiest nights of the year.

It was after midnight now, and the pub was only a quarter full. Theo looked around glumly and didn't spot Potter or Luna. His last-ditch effort failed more spectacularly than any of his other shipping efforts. Maybe he should give up shipping entirely. It wasn't worth all this.

Grumbling, he took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink for himself. He was not in a habit of drinking at his own establishment, but he was downright depressed over the failed events of the evening. Someone sat at the bar next to him, but Theo didn't even bother looking at them. Whoever it was could go hang.

"Rough night?" Potter asked from his right. Theo sighed. Of course, it was bloody Potter who was sitting next to him. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye and swallowed hard at seeing Potter's naked forearms. They flexed deliciously, and Theo breathed out sharply, quickly moving his gaze off of Potter and back to the bar in front of him.

"Yeah, rough night." Theo nodded. "Been trying to work on a project for a few weeks and well…tonight was the last horrific try and clearly, it hasn't worked."

Potter laughed. Theo frowned. He hated being laughed at.

"Oh, Nott. I'm interested in sleeping with _you_ , not Luna. I was wondering when you were going to give up on setting us up." Potter laughed some more, but Theo was gobsmacked. Had Potter just said what Theo thought he said?

From his left, Luna arrived. "I'll have what Harry's having."

"Wait, what?" Theo was flabbergasted. He looked between Potter's smirking face and Luna's soft smile in confusion.

"Why do you think we," indicating himself and Luna, "are here all the time?" Harry asked, settling a hand high up on Theo's thigh. Theo sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. "We're here because it means we get to see _you._ "

Theo still wasn't sure he understood what was going on when Luna let out a soft snort. She put her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her fully, and kissed him fully on the mouth. Theo couldn't help but respond. Potter's hand migrated higher and began fondling Theo's cock through his trousers. He grew hard so quickly that his face started to glow with embarrassment, and Luna pulled away.

"Maybe we should go upstairs?" Luna suggested.

"Let's do it," Potter nodded, drinking the last of his beer.

"Right." Theo nodded. He Summoned a key to one of the rooms upstairs and led Luna and Potter up. This wasn't what he had in mind at the beginning of the night, but he found he was quite looking forward to what laid ahead. His attempts at getting Potter and Luna together weren't quite the success he'd been looking for, but he definitely wouldn't call it a failure.

 _~Fin~_


	16. Submerged

**A/N: Written for KyoDreams In Another Life Fest! The prompt was:**

 **Underwater**

 **This story would not be what it is without the help of a few people: brownlark42 for walking me through two different iterations of this story and listening to me complain about it for a month, tofadeawayagain and MrsRen both worked hard to beta this piece at the last moment, so a huge thank you to them as well! And tofadeawayagain came up with the title for me as well!**

 **This one is a long one! Just under 15k words. Enjoy!**

 **If you loved this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! See the manip for this on on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff or Facebook at Shan Crochetaway.**

 **Pairing: Hermione/Draco**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione Granger is excited to finally meet with the leader of the Mermish population in the English Channel. But when she gets down there, everything goes wrong. Who will she discover when she's down there? And what will she do to get back home?**

* * *

 **Submerged**

* * *

It had taken Hermione Granger five years to get to this point. Five long years of research, getting snubbed, more research, learning a complicated language that hardly anyone spoke, getting snubbed slightly less, and yet more research, but finally, _finally_ , the population of Mermish in the English Channel had agreed to speak with her. From all of her research, the Mermish colony in the channel were the 'originating' colony, the colony which was the oldest in the world and which had populated every other colony, including the one located in Black Lake at Hogwarts.

The Mermi were a terribly fickle people, with a culture that Hermione had been studying from afar for years. They'd finally invited her to spend two hours with them at their home in the English Channel, but Hermione was hoping she would be able to spend several days in the area and speak with them more than once. She'd bought gobs of Gillyweed for that exact reason. Placing the last few books into her trusty beaded bag, she glanced once more around the room. Hopefully, the next time she saw this space, she would be infinitely more knowledgeable about the Mermi. Her ultimate goal was to campaign for them with the Wizengamot and get them Being status instead of Creature status. Then maybe, in a few more years, she could write a book or two. The lack of knowledge of the Mermish population was appalling. In fact, the old myth that the first ever Merperson was cursed that way and lived in a bottle in the English Channel was still cited in almost every book Hermione had come across.

The myth was one of the reasons she was so excited to get to Dover and palaver with the Mermi there. Was it possible there was a grain of truth to it? Hermione didn't think so, but she wouldn't know if she wasn't able to speak with actual Merpeople and figure it out.

"So you're leaving now for the Mermaids?" Ron asked, startling her.

Hermione whirled around to find Ron leaning against the door to her bedroom. She and Ron both still lived in Grimmauld Place. It was hard for the three of them to quit living together, so they'd all settled into Harry's home after Hogwarts and nobody had moved out yet. Nor had Harry gotten sick of them; in fact, Hermione secretly thought that would never happen. Harry had always craved a family.

"They are called Mermi, Ron. We don't have to gender them," Hermione said for at least the tenth time that week.

"Whatever." Ron rolled his eyes. He wouldn't meet her gaze.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's just the first time you'll be gone overnight in years…"

"Is it you who is worried, or Harry?" Hermione asked. She knew that the friendship she had with Ron and Harry was a little too codependent, but the three of them had been through so much during the war that it was hard to break their dependency on each other.

"Mostly Harry," Ron said.

Hermione sighed. "Really, I'll be gone for a week at most. Probably only a couple of nights."

"I'm aware. It's not stopping Harry from sulking."

"He needs a bloody girlfriend," Hermione groused as she picked up her beaded bag and tossed her traveling cloak around her shoulders.

"Don't tell him that," Ron said, following her out of the room and down toward the study Harry had claimed as his own.

Hermione snorted but didn't answer. She didn't really want to go through the song and dance of soothing Harry's feathers, and really, it was becoming a little ridiculous. Maybe she should think about moving out after this trip?

"Harry?" She knocked on the door of his study.

He shouted for her to come in and Hermione took a deep breath before settling a bright smile on her face and opening the door.

"Hey," Harry muttered. His scowl deepened at seeing her.

"Oh, come on," Hermione sighed. "It'll only be a few nights."

"I just have a bad feeling about it, is all."

"Harry."

"I know. It's fine Hermione. Have fun. I hope you learn a lot."

"Right, I will. I'll send a Patronus if I'll be gone longer than three nights. To both of you." She included Ron in that statement with a brief look at him over her shoulder.

"Off with you, then," Harry grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and instead of leaving, she moved to behind the desk and kissed Harry on the top of his head. He really just needed someone around to mother him, which if Hermione was completely honest, she didn't hate having to do.

She bussed Ron's cheek on her way out of the study and hurried down the stairs before one of them could call her back again.

Her first breath outside of Grimmauld Place felt like freedom, and with a truly bright smile, Hermione Disapparated for the Dover coast.

* * *

The salty air whipped around her and Hermione could hardly contain her excitement. She pulled the old tent from their Horcrux hunting days and set it up with a flick of her wand. A few more flicks and the entire campsite was secured and hidden from everyone else's view. The Dover coast wasn't beachy so much as it was rocky. Hermione gingerly made her way to the sea, checking the time, to be sure she wasn't too early. She swallowed the first of the Gillyweed and waited as the skin in her neck itched something fierce. A wave of magic and a suffocating pressure in her lungs almost bowled her over. She touched her either side of her neck carefully; her gills had appeared. She shrugged off her outer robe and stuffed the rest of the Gillyweed into a zippered pocket in her wetsuit. Her wand was in another zippered pocket and Hermione slowly walked out into the ocean. Soon she was chest deep. She dove under the waves and swam forward. Her escort should be appearing soon, glancing at her wristwatch she found that she was right on time and the moment she looked up, a Mermi was in front of her. She drew up a little, startled because he seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

He was gorgeous, with dark hair that waved in the current of the water. Topless as all Mermi were, and had a brilliant cobalt blue tail. Hermione wondered what that tail felt like. There were fins growing out of his elbows that matched the color of his tail, and the gills on the side of his head fluttered as Hermione stared at him.

"Follow me," he said in Mermish. Hermione nodded and followed as he swam off. The tail really helped the Mermi, Hermione found, and she struggled to keep up with him, despite the webbed fingers and toes the Gillyweed had given her.

She was surprised. The Mermi she had interacted with in Black Lake were quite a bit smaller than the specimen in front of her. This one was the size of a full grown human. The ones in Black Lake were about the size of a seven or eight-year-old human child. Did that mean they were different species? Hermione would have to ask when they reached the colony. She'd hopefully be meeting with their leader today. She knew the leader was a male, but beyond that, he was quite elusive. She didn't even know his name.

They swam for what felt like close to an hour, deeper and deeper until finally coming to an underwater city made of coral. It reminded her of city from the Disney movie, _The Little Mermaid_ , which set off a whole slew of other questions for Hermione. Had a wizard been involved in making that movie? Or had it been a lot of guessing on the part of Muggles? Likely the Mermi wouldn't know, but it wouldn't hurt to ask a gentle question or two.

"Here," her guide said, still speaking in Mermish. He gestured to a doorway that was dark with seaweed hanging over it to create a curtain.

"Your leader is behind this?" Hermione confirmed.

The Mermi narrowed his eyes at her and nodded quickly. He gestured again for her to swim through the door. Taking a deep breath, Hermione reached into her pocket and stuffed another handful of Gillyweed in her mouth, renewing the effects instantly. Summoning her Gryffindor courage around her like a cloak, Hermione swam through the seaweed into a small room. It was lit by some sort of bioluminescent creature, it looked almost like a sea star that clung to the walls and ceiling. She would have given anything to study further, but there were more pressing matters.

Floating before her was none other than Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who had disappeared from the wizarding world five years ago, almost immediately after the war. His silver-blond hair was longer, floating in the water, making him look ethereal. He was bare chested as all Mermi were, and had a brilliant silver Mermi tail. Draco Malfoy was somehow a Mermi. Not only that—by all indications, he was their leader. He wore a crown of deep blue coral and carried a gold trident.

A hundred thoughts and emotions passed through Hermione's brain as she tried to wrap her mind about what she was seeing. How had this happened? What did it mean?

His face was stony as he took her in, and then he pointed his trident at her. "Sorry, Granger," he said in English and a bolt of purple magic erupted from the trident, hitting her in the side. Everything went black, but not before Hermione saw a sadness creep into his icy-grey eyes.

* * *

When Hermione awoke it was to a splitting headache. She blinked at first. Nothing made sense about her surroundings. It was almost as if she were still underwater, but surely that had just been a dream right? It felt like a dream. But why would she have dreamt about Draco Malfoy of all people? She must be exhausted. Surely, that was it. Exhaustion was driving her to have bizarre dreams. She opened her eyes again, and still, something was off. Slowly she sat up to find that not only was she underwater, but she also had a bright gold Mermi tail in place of where her legs had been.

"What in the bloody fuck?" she muttered to herself. Her heart stopped at the sight before her. She tentatively reached her hand out and patted where the tail started at her waist. That's when she realized she was no longer wearing the wetsuit she had put on. In fact, she was topless. Panic set in. How could she _be_ a Mermi? How in the world would this have even happened? There was no spell or charm that she knew of to turn someone into a Mermi. They were an entirely different species. Her hands fluttered up to her neck and she was slightly relieved to still have gills. At least she wouldn't drown. She slid her hands back down her abdomen, feeling the slight ruffle where her tail started. The tail itself was warm and smooth. A little slimy, like a fish's scales would be, but not overly so.

"Takes a bit to get used to," a deep voice addressed her in English.

Hermione whipped around to face the doorway of the room. It wasn't a proper door, just an opening with seaweed hanging in it for privacy. Malfoy was floating there. That's when Hermione realized she was still topless and covered her breasts from his view.

"What the fuck happened to me?" Hermione asked him. She tried to infuse her voice with rage, but she wasn't sure she was successful. To her ears, she sounded scared. She removed her right arm, covering herself with just her left as she felt around for her wand.

"Looking for this?" Malfoy asked, twirling her wand between his fingers.

"Malfoy! Give me that back! And turn me back!" Hermione shouted at him.

"Won't. Can't."

Malfoy wasn't grinning or smirking. His face was perfectly blank. Hermione had no idea how to deal with this creature in front of her.

"What did you do to me?" she asked again. She could have sighed in relief that her voice at least sounded steadier.

"Isn't it obvious? I've given you a new life. You're one of the Syreni now."

"Syreni?" Hermione asked. She'd never heard the term before.

"Oh, you probably still think of us as Mermaids and Mermen," Malfoy snorted. "We call ourselves the Syreni."

"I've been calling you the Mermi, gender neutral."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Why are you here?" she asked him. If he wasn't going to tell her why he made her a Syreni, then she was going to try and find out as much other information as she could.

That's when he smirked at her. "Because I have power here, Granger."

Hermione furrowed her brow. Power? This was about power?

"I don't understand."

"You wouldn't," he snorted. "Bloody Gryffindor."

"And why did you make me a Syreni?" Hermione asked. "I didn't ask for this, Malfoy."

"You think I did? Nobody comes down here and leaves, Granger." He shrugged as if it was unimportant that he had ripped her from her life.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hermione shouted. She had been sitting on a low piece of coral that seemed to act as a bed and unbent herself, floating slightly toward Malfoy in her agitation. She wasn't quite standing, as she didn't have legs, but her tail was pointed downward and she wasn't bent at the waist as if she were sitting. It was probably as close to standing as a Syreni was capable. She forgot to cover her breasts and in her anger, swished her tail, moving her even closer to Malfoy.

"You can't just kidnap people, Malfoy! People will look for me!" She poked him in the chest as he smirked down at her.

"Like they didn't look for me, Granger? It's not my rule anyway. I might be the leader, on the day-to-day things, but I have to follow the directions of the Old-One same as everyone else here."

"None of that made any sense," Hermione growled, shaking her head. She clenched her fists, frustrated with this situation. Frustrated that Malfoy could look so cool and composed when she felt completely off-kilter.

"It will, in time," Malfoy said. His arms had been crossed over his chest, and he dropped them to his sides, startling Hermione when she realized just how close he was to her. "You make a lovely Syreni, Granger," he said as he ran a hand very lightly down the back of her own arm. He tickled the fin he found at her elbow and Hermione was surprised to feel desire pool in her belly. It was both a turn on and frightening. She had no idea how Syreni mated and she was sure she didn't want to find out with Malfoy of all people.

"Hands off," she said as she glared at him. A swish of her tail backed her further into the room. Malfoy smirked at her again. She was beginning to hate that smirk. "I can't stay like this Malfoy, you have to turn me back."

"Can't."

She was beginning to hate that one-word refusal even more than the smirk.

"Won't you mean."

"No, Granger. I can't. It's against the rules. And even if it wasn't, I don't know how to change you back. If I did it now, you'd probably turn back to human without the benefit of Gillyweed and die anyway." He said it all so nonchalantly. Hermione was furious.

"You fucking prick!" she shouted and shoved him in the chest. "You can't _do_ this to people! It's fucking wrong!"

"Granger!" he shouted, grabbing her around the elbows. Instantly, that feeling of arousal flooded her core and she became limp in his arms. "Get hold of yourself," he hissed into her face. His face was finally showing an emotion and Hermione was terrified by it. He looked incensed at her outburst. Her terror was warring with desire and her eyes fluttered as she tried to make sense of it all.

Abruptly, Malfoy seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped her arms as if they had burnt him. The desire cooled somewhat, and it left a sick feeling of terror in her belly. She had to get out of this. What would Harry and Ron do when she didn't show up in a few days? She didn't know if Malfoy was her best bet in figuring a way out of this mess, but he was their leader and at least somewhat familiar to her.

"Who's the Old-One?" Hermione asked. She backed up entirely from Malfoy and sat on the coral bed at the opposite side of the room. She longed to put her head in her hands but didn't want to show that amount of weakness in front of him.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. He ran a hand through his hair in an entirely human gesture that surprised Hermione. "I'm not sure you're ready for all the legends of our people yet, Granger."

"I've been researching the Syreni for five years. I have the utmost respect for the Syreni people and would be honored to hear the legends." She knew she was being placating, but if she _was_ going to figure a way out of this mess, it would be better catch him with honey than vinegar.

Malfoy watched her for a long moment, seeming to consider her. Hermione held her ground, her hands still in her lap. Her tail warm and silky beneath her fingertips. It was a beautiful color.

"Come with me," Malfoy finally said and turned, moving out of the doorway. Hermione hurried to follow, straightening herself and swimming after him. It was entirely bizarre to be swimming with one lower appendage versus the two she'd had her entire life, but somehow it felt natural at the same time. At least, she didn't feel like she was flailing as she swam after Malfoy.

He swam her in and out of the huge complex they seemed to be in. There were lots of long corridors, some ramps going up and down. Hermione felt thoroughly lost. She knew even if she did find a way back to her human form, she wouldn't be able to navigate her way out of the building and to the surface. And even if she did get to the surface, how far out in the channel were they? Hermione had no way of knowing. They passed many Syreni along the way, but Hermione recognized none of them and none of them acknowledged her. They all nodded respectfully at Malfoy and ignored her completely.

Finally, Malfoy led her to a large room with a domed ceiling. She couldn't quite tell if the dome was some sort of barrier or not, but it was clear like glass and let the light from the surface filter down. What shocked her the most was that it was a library. Instead of books, there were stone tablets that would withhold being kept underwater for years.

"Is it all in Mermish?" Hermione asked as she spun in a slow circle to take in the room properly.

"Syrenish, but yes," Malfoy confirmed with a nod. "You'll find what you're looking for in here, Granger. Well, you'll find parts of it. You won't find a way to become human again. As I said, that is out of the question."

"I don't understand any of this," Hermione said shaking her head. She really didn't. Why invite her down here just to curse her into being a Syreni for the rest of her life?

"Read some of our texts. I'll come back for you when dinner is ready and we can talk," Malfoy said. He turned and left the room. The door was blocked with some sort of magic. Hermione tried to follow him but was unable to make it through the seaweed that covered the opening. That left the dome above. It looked like it was wide open, but Hermione had to assume there was some sort of barrier, otherwise, all manner of creatures would be living in the library. As far as Hermione could see, the library seemed rather clean and clear of any debris. She didn't even see a barnacle anywhere.

Instead of looking at the stone tablets for more research, Hermione decided it would be prudent to figure out if the dome was indeed some sort of barrier. She swam up and discovered it wasn't a dome at all. It was just a flat barrier over the circular room, allowing the light through. Hermione could touch the barrier, but it didn't feel like glass or anything else human made. Rather it felt sort of slimy, like her tail. She wondered what it was made of and if it was easily broken? Not that she could do anything about it even if she could get to the surface. She was still stuck as a Syreni. And as much research as Hermione had done over the last few years, she'd never once come across a curse that would turn someone into a Syreni, which meant there was no counter-curse that would turn someone back into a human.

She drifted back down to the ground and began sifting through the stone tablets. She could read most of them, although her Syrenish wasn't completely proficient. She often worked with a dictionary, but that wasn't possible down here. She frowned at the dialects that were either older or from another part of the world that she couldn't read.

While everything she read was very interesting, nothing was much of a surprise. Hermione had already surmised much of the information she'd found, which meant she was able to validate her research if she could ever get to the surface. Syreni were capable of magic, she knew that. Did that mean they were related to wizards like house elves and goblins were? How did they fit into the magical Being puzzle? She didn't know and nothing she'd come across in the several hours since she'd been here led her toward an answer. She also found no hints of the founding myth of the Syreni that seemed to be the _only_ thing that researchers wrote about on earth. That myth—that the first Syreni had been cursed and lived in a jar—was fascinating and all, but Hermione knew there could be no truth to it.

Curiously enough, she also didn't find anything in the texts that spoke of Syreni children. Nothing about babies or pregnancy or reproduction of any kind. The Syreni either didn't write that part of their culture and society down, or it was written in one of those dialects that Hermione couldn't decipher. That seemed the likely reason. They seemed to have written everything else down, why wouldn't they write down the reproductive process as well?

It was hours later when Malfoy finally came back for her. She hadn't read everything, but she felt like she'd read everything that was relevant to her current research. What she needed now was a way to get out of here. She couldn't, she _wouldn't_ accept that she had to stay here forever. Just because Malfoy accepted it, didn't mean she had to. Any _why_ had he accepted it? Because of power? How had he become the leader in the first place? The texts she'd read today were very enlightening, but she hadn't come across anything that was current events or political.

"Malfoy," Hermione said as he led her back through the huge complex. She was paying more attention tonight than she had in the morning. Trying to form a map of the place in her head. "How did you become the leader?"

Malfoy snorted. "Politics, Granger. I was trained in the game of politics since the time I was a child. Coming into a relatively closed-off society, one would think it would be hard to break into their political structure, but…" he trailed off and Hermione wondered if he'd come close to telling her something she wasn't supposed to know. "It doesn't matter. I was duly elected and here I am."

"Right," Hermione said. The warren of corridors was dizzying but after a long while, they came to a huge hall. It held several long tables, and Syreni of all kinds were seated, eating from the food offered. Hermione looked close to see that it was mostly various fish and seaweed. Not wholly unappetizing, similar to sushi. She wondered how food would taste underwater. The whole idea of being an entirely different species was too bizarre for Hermione's brain to contemplate, so she did what she did best: compartmentalized. Instead of worrying about the differences between human and Syreni, she needed to worry about how to get out of here.

Malfoy led her through the large room and this time, Hermione could feel the stares of the other Syreni on her. It reminded her that she was still topless, but so were all of the other female Syreni so at least she wasn't out of place, even if she felt wholly uncomfortable. He settled them in the center at the head table, and the moment they sat on the low bench, everyone around them went back to their conversations. Hermione jumped when their tails brushed together under the table.

"This is strange," Hermione murmured as she looked over the food options before her.

Malfoy snorted and placed a couple of items on her plate. "You'll like these," he commented. Then proceeded to fill his own plate. "So you spent the day in our library. What questions do you have?"

"I need to learn more dialects of Syreni," Hermione said. "I couldn't read it all. But there was nothing on reproduction or your political system."

When Malfoy snorted again, Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Why did he find everything she said so damned humorous?

"Oh, did you find being turned into a Syreni against your will less overwhelming and confusing than I have?" Hermione spat.

"Who said I was unwilling?" Malfoy asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Why would you choose this?" Hermione asked. "It's a wholly insular community. Who would _ever_ choose this?"

"Because the wizarding world is so open and tolerant," Malfoy sneered. "If you are gearing up for an argument, Granger, let's at least wait until we're in private. I do have an image to keep."

Hermione glared at him before releasing a slow breath. He was right. They shouldn't argue in public. It certainly wouldn't endear anyone to her.

"Fine, then why did I find no texts on how Syreni reproduce?"

"That I can't tell you," Malfoy responded.

"As a female whose role is generally required for reproduction, I feel that it would be my right to know," Hermione said, immediately offended by his casual dismissal.

"Don't worry, Granger. Nobody down here will get you pregnant in the human or fish sense." He looked amused and Hermione found herself glaring at him again.

"Then tell me why you think being the leader of the Syreni is preferable to being a wizard."

"Did I not just ask you to not argue with me in public? Did you lose a few brain cells in the last few years?"

"You're insufferable," Hermione huffed and turned back to the food before her that she hadn't even touched. Instead of talking to Malfoy, she inspected the food before her and picked up something that did look remarkably like a sushi roll and popped it in her mouth. She hadn't realized she was hungry until the morsel practically melted in her mouth. It was delicious. Within moments, she'd cleaned her plate.

Throughout the meal, Syreni came forward to speak with Malfoy. Mostly about small grievances they had with other Syreni. It seemed mealtimes were a time when Malfoy directly answered to the public. It was fascinating to listen to and it helped her piece together the way the society was structured, even if she was ignorant of the way the political sphere was ordered.

"Do all the Syreni live here?" Hermione asked when there was a lull in petitioners.

"Well, all of the ones in our colony, yes," Malfoy said. "There are other colonies in other parts of the world, but ours is one of the largest and the oldest."

"Do the colonies operate like countries? Or is there a central governing body?"

"No, just individual colonies. There are some treaties in place. There isn't much fighting or war, but the ocean is a dangerous place so Syreni don't live alone. They live in colonies, mostly near shorelines."

The bit about the shorelines was interesting, but Hermione had a feeling he wouldn't tell her if she asked.

Finally, the meal was considered over and Malfoy led her back to the room she had woken up in that morning.

"I'm down the corridor," he said, pointing down to another seaweed covered doorway. "I know you've a lot to think about, so I'll bid you goodnight." Malfoy didn't say anything else as he swam off down the corridor. She watched as he entered his room, then retreated to her own. Malfoy was right, she did have a lot to think about, but she wasn't tired. If anything, she had more questions than answers and she knew that she wasn't going to get those answers anytime soon.

What she really wanted to do, was find a way out of the Syreni complex and make her way to the surface. She wanted to know how close to the coast they really were. She'd been gone for maybe two days? It wasn't clear how long she had been unconscious before she awoke as a Syreni. Which meant that Harry and Ron would be looking for her in two days if they didn't hear from her by tomorrow. Malfoy still had her wand, so even if she did get to the surface, she couldn't cast her Patronus.

Hermione waited another fifteen minutes, counting the seconds off in her head. She wanted to make sure Malfoy was good and asleep before she slipped out of her room and began exploring on her own.

When she felt like she couldn't wait any longer, she poked her head through her seaweed covered door to find the corridor completely empty. She knew that to the left led to the huge dining hall and library that she had already been to, so Hermione turned right. She slipped past the door that Malfoy had gone through as slowly as possible to prevent the seaweed from ruffling in the wake she created.

The entire place was a maze of rooms and corridors. Private rooms seemed to have the seaweed over the doorways and public rooms were completely open. The bioluminescent animals and barnacles were everywhere lighting her way but giving off an eerie green glow. Hermione was hopelessly lost when she stumbled upon a large public room that was rather dark. She was about to turn around and try to find her way back when someone spoke to her.

"Is someone there?" The voice sounded elderly and Hermione turned back to the dark room.

"Hello?" she said, entering the room fully. "Is there a way to turn on the lights? I can't see anything."

Suddenly a low, green light lit along the floor, casting that same eerie glow in the room. At the center of the room was the oldest looking Syreni Hermione had ever seen. She was practically dessicated. Her tail was a brilliant teal but had as many wrinkles as the human side of her body. Her hair was grey but thin to the point of having several bald patches. Her eyes were completely filmed over with white, meaning it was likely she couldn't see and her hands were curled over and looked more like claws. None of that was the most astonishing thing though. The thing that had Hermione stopping in her tracks was that she was trapped in a very large jar.

"Come closer, child," the old Syreni said, beckoning Hermione over with one of her clawed hands. Hermione swam closer, seemingly unable to disobey the command. "You're new."

"Yes," Hermione said. "Malfoy turned me today or yesterday."

"Welcome. They call me the Old-One," she said.

Hermione vaguely remembered Malfoy saying something about obeying the Old-One. "Are you…" Hermione trailed off. The myth written about the Syreni had said that they originated because a witch was cursed into one and made to live in a jar. Did that mean it was true?

"Yes," the Old-One said. "I was cursed, many, many years ago."

"Is that why you cursed the others?" Hermione asked.

"At first," the Old-One said with a slight chuckle. It was a rusty sound that grated against Hermione's nerves. "I was young and lonely. My jar used to be kept at the end of a pier, before I had made enough others like me and we moved the colony here."

Something clicked in Hermione's head. "So that means the Syreni can't reproduce."

"Yes. The only way to make a new Syreni is to curse a new human. There is no natural reproduction within the Syreni population."

"That's barbaric!" Hermione shouted. She was immediately incensed that she had been cursed to a life she didn't want because these creatures couldn't have children.

"It's what has always been done," the Old-One said. There was a sense of finality in her voice that had Hermione backing away from the jarred prison.

"There has to be another way," Hermione said shaking her head as she backed away.

"There's not," the Old-One said with the same finality.

"I thought I might find you here, Granger," Malfoy said from the entrance of the room. Hermione whirled around to find him floating near the door. He nodded at the Old-One respectfully and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are the one who did this to me!" she shouted as she swam closer.

"Take your petty bickering elsewhere," the Old-One said, "I find I'm tiring."

Malfoy grabbed Hermione's arm above her elbow fin and dragged her along down the corridor. Hermione struggled for a few moments, but when Malfoy's hand only tightened, she resolved herself to going wherever it was he wanted to take her.

He took a straighter route than Hermione had on her way there and they were back in the same corridor that held both of their rooms. This time, Malfoy pushed her through the doorway to his own room. It looked much like Hermione's only larger.

"Am I allowed to yell at you yet?" Hermione hissed.

"Yell away, Granger," Malfoy said. He sounded resigned to a tongue lashing from her which Hermione was happy to give him.

"How could you do this to me, Draco? Why would you curse me to this life? I know we never really got along, but is this all you think of me?" Hermione hoped by using his first name, she would get through to him. He did start a bit when he heard it.

"You should feel honored that I made you into something that I am," Malfoy said haughtily.

"You're a prat," Hermione hissed. "You cursed me because Syreni can't reproduce, right? It's the only way to get more people in your population and it's fucking barbaric!"

"On the plus side, you'll probably live for a good three hundred years or so," Malfoy shrugged.

Hermione was irritated that he was so calm when she was so upset. She wanted him to get upset with her.

"Did you really choose this? How would you even know about it to make a choice? It seems like your standard modus operandi is to do it on the sly."

Malfoy sighed. "Alright, I didn't _choose_ to become Syreni, but it's done now, and frankly, it's still better than living in post-war Britain. You wouldn't understand," he said dismissively.

"Oh, you think being a war hero is all it's cracked up to be?" Hermione scoffed.

"Better than getting spat on in the street," Malfoy hissed.

Hermione was secretly pleased that she had coaxed some sort of emotional response out of him. "Yes, of course, people are mean to you," Hermione sneered. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was tortured. Do you recall? You ought to, you were there. I still have nightmares. I can barely leave my house for being mobbed by people wanting a piece of the war hero, a piece of the Golden Trio. It's disgusting."

Malfoy laughed meanly. "You weren't the only one tortured, sweetheart," he said snidely. "Even as a Syreni, I still have the tremors that the Cruciatus causes. And I guarantee your nightmares have nothing on mine."

They had been drifting closer as they argued and now were floating practically chest to chest. Hermione's chest was heaving, almost brushing against Malfoy's in her anger.

"I noticed you don't have the Dark Mark anymore, no wonder you like being Syreni," Hermione sneered.

Malfoy growled and Summoned his trident from across the room. A flick and Malfoy shoved his forearm in Hermione's face.

"Don't worry, my greatest shame is still there on my skin for all to see, I just prefer to keep it covered." He looked disgusted with her and suddenly, Hermione felt sorry for him. As bad as she had it during the war and after the war, it couldn't compare to him. A former Death Eater who was pardoned based on his age.

"I'm sorry," she offered, placing her hand on his arm, right over his Dark Mark.

He flinched and pulled his arm away, dropping it back to his side.

"It's fine," he said gruffly.

"It's not," Hermione said. "It's not fine that people would treat you badly for something you were forced to do as a child. It's not fine to be pardoned by the Wizengamot and yet suffer the consequences socially. And it's definitely not fine that you were forced into a war you didn't want as a child."

"You were forced too," Malfoy reminded her. "It wasn't just me."

"True, but I could have run away to the Muggle world. Snapped my wand and washed my hands of the lot of you."

"Why did you stay?" Malfoy asked.

"Harry," Hermione said. Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes.

"He's like my brother," Hermione said. "You may dislike him, but Harry had the rawest deal of the lot of us. Raised in an abusive home to be slaughtered because Dumbledore thought that was best. He'd been manipulated almost his entire life by people more powerful than him. He was raised to be a sacrifice and it's sheer luck that he's not dead now."

"Merlin," Malfoy breathed backing away from her slightly.

Hermione moved with him. As they'd been talking, she'd spotted her wand lying on a small shelf near his bed. She wanted her wand because she had an idea.

"I really am sorry," Hermione said, reaching out to touch his arm again. This time her fingers settled on the fins at his elbow. Malfoy grunted and his eyes fluttered and Hermione wondered if perhaps the elbow fins were pleasure centers to make up for the fact that the Syreni didn't have typical reproductive organs.

"How does this work?" Hermione asked, fluttering her fingers in his fins. They felt soft and flickered between her fingers. She could feel her own desire pooling in her belly.

"Fuck," Malfoy grunted. "Feels good."

"I had gathered," Hermione murmured. She peeked up at him to see that his eyes were closed. She swam a little closer and twisted her body enough that she could reach her wand with her other hand. She snatched it up and with a quick charm, stuck it underneath her heavy hair. She hoped he wouldn't notice that it was gone. "But how does it work?"

"No reproductive organs," Malfoy panted. His chest was heaving and Hermione wondered if he would or could orgasm from this. She kept a steady, gentle motion of her fingers on his fin. "So, we have these fins. Touching them causes pleasure. Extreme pleasure."

"Can you climax?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy snorted. "I've never tried, but I hear it's possible. With enough stimulation."

Hermione grinned at him and dropped her hand away.

"Fuck, Granger," Malfoy said after a long moment, finally opening his eyes to gaze at her lazily.

"Good?" Hermione asked, giving him a cheeky grin and cocking her head to her side.

Malfoy smirked at her and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Yeah," he breathed against her cheek, causing butterflies to erupt in Hermione's stomach. She pulled back from him and smiled softly.

"I should get some sleep," Hermione said.

Malfoy nodded. "Night, Granger."

"Night, Draco," Hermione said in response and quickly left the room.

It was already dark on the surface, making the entire complex much darker than it had been during the day. Hermione didn't care about that though, she had to get herself out of the complex and to the surface so she could get back to her campsite. She'd had an epiphany while arguing with Malfoy and wanted to get back to her research as quickly as possible. Preferably before Harry and Ron would begin looking for her. Who knew what they would do when they found her abandoned tent?

It wasn't something she could risk, but now that she had her wand, things would be infinitely easier. She swam as quickly as she could without disturbing the rest of the seaweed doors and made it back to the dining area which was virtually deserted.

"Point me," she whispered once she pulled her wand free from her hair. Her wand spun in her hand and then pointed off toward her left. She followed it down a maze of corridors and past many, many rooms before she quite abruptly found herself in the open sea. A yawning blackness opened before her and fear flittered along her nerves. _Anything_ could be waiting for her in the open ocean, a threat she had not realized when she had been planning the escape. It didn't matter now. She couldn't show up on the Dover coast as a Syreni in broad daylight. A Muggle might see her. No, she needed to do this now. She took a few deep breaths, summoning all of her Gryffindor courage and swam as quickly as she was able to up toward the surface.

The first thing she had to do was orient herself on the surface so she could accurately find her camp. It was many long minutes before her head broke through the waves and she was breathing air. Her gills burned as they flapped, trying to pull in water that wasn't there. Hermione ignored the pain, her nose seemed to work just fine for breathing the air.

"Point me," she said again and her wand spun, pointing almost directly in front of her. Hermione took off, swimming quickly. The Syreni tail was strong, allowing her to cut through the waves in a way she'd never been able to do as a human. It wasn't long until she was at the Dover coast. She could just barely make out her tent.

" _Accio_ beaded bag," Hermione hissed from the edge of the water. Her gills were really burning now.

Her bag came zooming out of the tent and into Hermione's waiting hand. She cast a permanent Impervious charm to the bag and all of the contents first thing. Then she brought the whole thing with her into the water. She would have to continue enchanting the bag and especially the books within it. Despite the 'permanency' of the charm, it wasn't truly permanent. Subjected to harsh conditions, such as being underwater, would allow the charm to wear off after a while.

It felt like it took much less time for Hermione to return back to the Syreni complex and her room. The surface was still dark, and she hoped she would be able to find what she was looking for and still get a little sleep yet that night.

* * *

The following day, Malfoy came by Hermione's room and escorted her to breakfast.

"Will you tell me the story of how you became Syreni?" Hermione asked. She hoped that Malfoy would allow her to have some free rein today and not lock her in the library again. But to safeguard against that, she'd hidden her wand in her hair again.

"Not much to tell," Malfoy grunted as he speared a piece of fish with a fork. "I was lonely, depressed and spending a lot of my time at a family home on the coast of Dorset."

He paused for a long moment, looking lost in thought. Hermione had a hundred questions, but sat silent, waiting for him to tell his story.

"A beautiful Syreni started making an appearance in the waves in the distance," Malfoy said. "I spent a lot of time on the beach, watching the waves roll in. Ostensibly I was trying to figure out what to do with my life. Reality was more complicated. Depression, anxiety, they warred within me and I couldn't figure out where my life had gone wrong. I was angry. Angry at my parents, definitely, but also angry at myself. My parents didn't raise me to be anything less than self-assured and here I was doubting everything I knew about myself and my family and the world at large." Malfoy laughed ruefully and shook his head. "I was an eighteen-year-old kid with no fucking clue what to do with the life that I found myself in.

"The Syreni kept appearing, day after day. At first, I was sure I was hallucinating. It didn't occur to me that she was Syreni, I thought it was something I was dreaming up. But then she began coming closer and closer. Finally, she appeared on a rock halfway out in the bay. She appeared there for days, never coming any closer and my curiosity got the best of me. I transfigured myself a boat and went out to meet her."

He was quiet for so long that Hermione couldn't help but prompt him. "What happened then?" She noticed that the dining area had thinned out noticeably since Malfoy had begun his story.

"We talked. We talked every day for three weeks. Her name was Olivia. She was beautiful, kind, and just listened to me. She listened when I raged, she listened when I cried, she listened to every insane thing I thought for three weeks. Then she invited me to come down to see her home. She even had some Gillyweed." He shook his head, laughing quietly.

"I was half in love already and swallowed the Gillyweed without a second thought. I may have been eighteen, but I was still a child in some sense. I followed her down here and when I got here, the leader of the Syreni...made me Syreni, too."

Hermione noticed he didn't say cursed, although he'd hesitated as though he had thought about it.

"So all that tosh about choices?" Hermione asked.

"What can I say, Granger? It's not a choice, but if you make it down here, well, you've already made some choices that led you here."

Hermione huffed but decided not to argue with him. She had other things to do this morning.

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked. "Olivia?"

"She's still here, somewhere," Malfoy said, indicating the hall in front of them. "Although we've since had a falling out. Well, it appears this meal has ended," Malfoy said in an abrupt change of subject. "Can I trust you to keep yourself inside the Syreni complex today? Or shall I lock you in the library again?"

"Please don't," Hermione said. "I'll behave. I'd love to explore and work on getting my bearings if that's alright?"

Malfoy nodded and bid her adieu before swimming off. Hermione almost couldn't believe that he believed her. She didn't think she was that good of an actor, but perhaps Malfoy didn't know her that well. She swam back to her room. She wanted to read through all of her research including a few of the myths she'd been collecting as she researched.

At the time, she had hoped to debunk each of the myths, perhaps in a book, but now, she wanted to review the myths to see what they said about breaking the curse. Because as she recalled, all curses could be broken in myths. So if the myth about the first Syreni was true, then perhaps the way to break the curse of that myth was also true. At least, that's how Hermione hoped it would work. She had know idea what she would do if this theory didn't pan out. It was her only lead and she was desperate for it to work.

It took her most of the day to read through each variation of the myth and to categorize the differences and similarities amongst them. The one thing she'd found among it all, though, was how the curse was to be broken. Every myth mentioned it, which led Hermione to believe it had to be true.

She was just doing a final readthrough of the notes she made and casting an additional Impervius charm on everything when Malfoy entered her room.

"I thought I'd find you…" he trailed off as he took in the scene before him. Books and parchment were everywhere. Hermione had switched to Muggle-style pens years ago and one was floating in front of her.

"Um—"

"What is all this?" Malfoy asked. His voice was quiet, almost deadly. Hermione knew he would be upset, but she had hoped he wouldn't be too upset.

"My research," Hermione said.

"So what? You thought you'd come down here, research the freaks and go back to the surface? Don't you get it, Granger? There is no way to change you back to human. The sooner you realize that the better." Hermione couldn't help but note that a hint of bitterness had crept into his voice.

"But what if that's _not_ the case?" Hermione asked. "What if there's a way for us to become human again?"

"Even if that were true—which it's not—I don't want to be a human. I like being Syreni. I like leading my people. This is where I belong."

Hermione looked at him sadly. He was trying so hard to convince himself that this was what he wanted. "Don't you miss it?" Hermione asked. "Don't you miss, breathing air, being able to go wherever you want? What about your parents? Don't you miss them?"

Malfoy glared at her for a long moment before turning around. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair. His tail twitched in agitation and Hermione watched the muscles ripple along his back as he mulled things over.

When he didn't turn around after what felt like had been a long time, Hermione approached him, placing her hand on his back. His skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingers.

"Draco, come back with me. Come back to the surface and be a human again," Hermione pleaded.

"I'm scared," Malfoy finally admitted. "I'm scared of what life up there will be like. I-I've been down here for so long and…"

"But it's not real. It's not who you are or who you want to be," Hermione said. "I'll help you. If we are able to really do this. If my idea will work, I'll do everything I can to help you."

Malfoy snorted. "As if any of your ideas were terrible. What does it involve?"

"It's easy actually. You know the originating myth of the Syreni?" Hermione asked. She turned from Malfoy and ruffled through her notes again.

"I'm aware. I even know that it's mostly true," Malfoy said ruefully.

"Right," Hermione replied. "Well if the myth is mostly true then perhaps the way to break the curse is also mostly true."

"You mean break the jar?" Malfoy confirmed.

"Yeah, break the jar," Hermione said, looking up at him. "According to the myths the curse originated from Nimue. Perhaps we could invoke her in someway and save anyone who wanted to remain as a Syreni? I haven't gotten that far."

"We invoke Nimue rather frequently," Malfoy said. "As a part of transferring power from the current leader to a new leader."

"I think we'll need permission from the Old-One, at the very least," Hermione said.

"No, everybody needs to know. I'll call a council meeting. There will be many who won't be happy about this, Granger."

"I'm almost surprised at how well you are taking it," Hermione admitted.

Malfoy offered her a lazy smirk. He reached a hand out and tickled her elbow fins. If Hermione had knees, they would have buckled. An intense pleasure flooded her body and she drifted closer to Malfoy. Close enough that he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione melted into the kiss as it seemed to sear her very soul. She wanted more, she wanted to be closer and she used the arm that Malfoy wasn't pleasuring to hold him to her, pressing their chests together. Her nipples hardened as they pressed against his chest. Malfoy deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers. When he pulled away moments later, Hermione was gasping. Malfoy had his hand firmly above her elbow, holding her upright.

"I'm doing it because I want to know what that feels like on the surface," Malfoy said, his voice husky. His lips pressed soft kisses along her jaw. "I want to know what it feels like when you clench around my cock."

Hermione whined deep in her throat at the thought of being filled by Malfoy. "I want that, too."

"It's excellent motivation, isn't it?" His hot lips pressed against the shell of her ear causing gooseflesh to erupt all over. He then released her entirely. "Council meeting will happen directly after dinner," he said before leaving the room entirely.

Hermione found herself sitting down hard on her low coral bed. That had been intense. Who knew the sexual chemistry between her and Malfoy would be that extreme? She'd barely spent a few days with him and he had her practically on the floor begging for him. And the naughty things he had whispered in her ear, Merlin! If she still had a cunt it would be clenching in need right now. Instead, the heavy feeling of arousal was in her belly. Experimentally, she reached her left hand out to tickle the fins on her right elbow. It felt nice, but nothing like it did when Malfoy touched her.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Hermione returned to her research. She had a meeting to prepare for.

* * *

Dinner felt tense, and Hermione didn't know if the cause was the tension that lurked between her and Malfoy, or the meeting that was to follow directly after dinner. What happened if the rest of the Syreni wanted nothing to do with this? Would Hermione be stuck here forever? She shuddered at the thought. She would miss Harry and Ron too much. Hell, she'd miss sex too much, if she was honest. She'd miss all the bits about being human she enjoyed, the sun on her face, snow, walking through Diagon Alley, window shopping. Hell, even seeing anything other than this complex. It seemed as if the Syreni hardly left where they lived. What a dull and boring existence. Hermione sighed, picking at her food.

"Nervous?" Malfoy asked. His voice was low so nobody else sitting near them could hear.

"A bit," Hermione admitted. "What happens if this doesn't work? What happens if most of the Syreni decide they'd rather stay Syreni? I can't live like this Malfoy. I can't…"

"Hey, Granger," Malfoy settled his hand on top of hers, giving it a light squeeze. "We'll make it work."

Hermione wasn't sure if he meant that they'd figure a way out if the Syreni decided against it or if he would do what he could if she was stuck down here. Logically, she knew that some of the blame lay at his feet. Did he see it that way, too?

A short time later, dinner started to wind down. The plates and leftover food was cleared away. Hermione still hadn't quite figured out how the society and magic worked down here. Did they have house elves? She hadn't seen any if they did.

"Thank you for staying for the council meeting," Malfoy said after he rose from his seat. Hermione could feel hundreds of eyes on her and she gazed back out into the sea of faces as calmly as she could. "We've come across new information about how the Syreni people came to be," Malfoy said. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You all elected me because I was willing to tell the hard truths. So here it is. The Old-One was cursed, as we all know. She was cursed to become a Syreni and live in a jar many hundreds of years ago. That curse has prevented her from leaving her jar, but it also gave her the power to make others like her, like us."

Malfoy paused for a moment, quiet as the crowd grew slightly agitated.

"Part of the curse is that Syreni are unable to propagate. Which is why we add to our numbers the way we do. The way we were all added." Malfoy waved his arm indicating the entirety of the hall.

Except for the slight current in the water, the entire hall was silent, waiting to hear what Malfoy would say next.

"We have an opportunity to break that curse," Malfoy said.

Chaos erupted. Shouting from all corners of the hall, Syreni turning to their neighbors in furious discussion with each other. Hermione watched as the energy in the hall seemed to increase exponentially until Malfoy banged the bottom of his trident against the tabletop. After several long moments, the hall finally quieted.

"Please let me explain," Malfoy said. "We can break the curse, but we don't have the full implications of that yet."

"What's that mean?" someone from the back asked.

"It means that we need to consult Nimue. I imagine some of you would like to stay Syreni, while others may be more keen to return to life as a human."

"It's because of her, isn't it?" a beautiful Syreni with gorgeous brown hair asked, pointing directly at Hermione. She had a lovely emerald green tail, but the look on her face was ugly and twisted. Hermione wondered if that was Olivia.

"Hermione did find the answer to ending the curse," Malfoy said. "But that's not why I'm announcing it to you. I think as a people we should decide our next course of action. I'm suggesting we Summon Nimue and find out our options before doing anything else."

There was some grumbling and a few more questions asked, but eventually, most of the Syreni in attendance agreed that at the very least they should consult Nimue. Malfoy scheduled the Summoning to happen the following day after breakfast. First, though, he had to consult with the Old-One.

"Should I come with?" Hermione asked nervously. She and Malfoy were swimming back toward their quarters. She wanted to ask him about the green-tailed Syreni but held her tongue just in time.

"No, get some sleep," Malfoy said, giving her a soft smile. He leaned forward and placed a small kiss against her temple. Hermione offered him a half-smile before disappearing into her room.

She came face-to-face with the emerald-tailed Syreni.

"Oh, hello," Hermione said, drawing up short. The other Syreni didn't look pleased, but even with the sour expression, Hermione could see that she was beautiful.

"What is your agenda?" she asked.

"I don't want to be Syreni," Hermione said simply. "I didn't come here to become Syreni, I came here to study the Syreni people and culture in order to help the wizarding government liaise better with your people."

"You say that is if you aren't one of us," the other woman accused.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," Hermione said. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Olivia Carver," she said. She didn't take Hermione's proffered hand. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, pushing out her already ample cleavage. Hermione had kept herself separate enough from the rest of the Syreni that she still flushed when she caught sight of another woman's breasts. Most of the Syreni had hair long enough to cover them, but still, it embarrassed Hermione.

Olivia apparently noticed, she snorted at the look on Hermione's face. "You aren't even really Syreni yet," she said. "You may look the part, but you certainly don't act like it."

"I'm alright with that," Hermione replied, narrowing her eyes. "I don't _want_ to be Syreni. I want to be human."

"You want to take Draco away from us," Olivia accused. Hermione could see that she was practically vibrating in anger. "He's the best leader we've had in years, and you can't just waltz in here and take him from us!"

"From the Syreni people or from you personally?" Hermione asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Listen here," Olivia said through gritted teeth. She drew herself up so that she was floating higher than Hermione. "I don't particularly care if you stay or if you go, but you _aren't_ taking Draco with you."

"Draco is a grown man," Hermione said, infusing her voice with steel. "He will make his own choices. Perhaps if you hadn't tricked him in the first place, he wouldn't even be thinking of leaving the Syreni."

Olivia's jaw tightened and Hermione wondered if she was about to be hit, but with an angry huff, Olivia pushed past her and left the room. Hermione's heart was racing as she tried to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. She hoped the Summoning with Nimue in the morning went well. All she wanted was to get back to the surface. At this point, if Malfoy did decide to stay down here, she would be disappointed, but more than anything she wanted out of here.

* * *

Hermione had barely picked at her breakfast before following Malfoy back to the Old-One's chambers. That's where they would summon Nimue. Hermione was unsure of her reception from the Old-One and Malfoy was giving nothing away this morning. He'd barely even greeted her when she had shown up at breakfast. She could feel Olivia glaring daggers at her, as well. Hermione really hoped that Nimue would have more than one option available for the Syreni.

As she followed in Malfoy's wake, Hermione wondered if she could get Nimue to change just her back if everything else failed. She hated the idea of owing a goddess anything, but she would rather do that than live down here. The allure had thoroughly worn off and the more Hermione thought about life underwater, the worse she felt about it all.

The Old-One was awake and alert when they arrived in her chamber. The bioluminescent creatures were already lit, and when she and Malfoy entered the Old-One turned toward them. Hermione knew she couldn't see them, but it didn't stop an eerie feeling from creeping up her spine as those milky eyes followed their movements.

"Why have you come here, child?" the Old-One asked. She was staring directly at Hermione.

"Er, I thought Malfoy had explained…" Hermione trailed off, looking at Malfoy helplessly.

"No, why did you come down here in the first place?" the Old-One asked. "Why did you seek our people out?"

"I wanted to help you liaise with the wizarding government," Hermione said. "I wanted to reclassify the Syreni as a Being instead of just a Creature. I wanted to give you a seat at the table, so to speak."

"We care nothing for the wizarding world or government," the Old-One spat with a visage of anger. "We never have and we never will. We leave them alone and they leave us alone."

"I—"

"No! I'm not finished speaking!" the Old-One roared. "You come down here and want to _destroy_ all that I have created!"

"I meant no disrespect," Hermione whispered. Despite everything, Hermione could very clearly see why the Old-One was angry. She'd bumbled into this mess with more arrogance than knowledge. And now that she was facing the consequences, she was willing to blow up this entire society to get what she wanted. She was really a selfish cow. How could anyone even stand to be around her? She began backing toward the doorway when Malfoy caught up to her with a light touch to her shoulder.

"She's working her magic on you, Granger," Malfoy murmured into her ear. "She's sowing doubts. It's how she lured the first of the Syreni down here. She's very good at it."

"She's not wrong," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I've been unbelievably arrogant and blasé about this whole thing."

"Maybe," Malfoy shrugged. "But I think more people than you suspect are interested in going back to the surface."

Hermione bit her lip as she looked up at Malfoy. She could still feel the doubts swirling in her head, but Malfoy was right. This society was contrived and unsustainable without cursing others to this way of life. She nodded swiftly.

"There's my girl," Malfoy murmured against the top of her head and dropped a kiss there. Hermione felt suffused with heat at the proclamation that she was _his_. She buried any sort of hope deep inside her. They had work to do.

Malfoy led her across the chamber, behind the jar where the Old-One floated. She found a small altar with a circle in front of it carved into the stone floor.

"The circle is small, but we should both fit in it," Malfoy said. "Let's get started." For the first time that morning, Hermione understood that Malfoy, too, was nervous about this.

Once they were inside the circle, Malfoy pointed his trident at the floor and swung it in a circle, muttering a spell under his breath that Hermione didn't quite catch. A bright blue light flowed out of the trident and encircled them both. Malfoy faced the altar, so Hermione copied him and he began chanting in a low voice. Hermione couldn't catch all of the words, but she got the gist of it. He was both calling Nimue to him and praising her at the same time. It was rather fascinating as Hermione had never participated in a Summoning before.

A flash of white from the altar filled the chamber for a moment, blinding them both for a long moment. When Hermione could finally see again, a very tall woman stood on the altar. She didn't have a Syreni tail, although the ragged dress she wore was a similar shade to many of the Syreni tails she'd seen, a lovely oceanic blue color. Her hair was pitch black and long, almost to her waist.

"Why have you called me forth, Syreni? Have you had a change in leadership?" Nimue asked. Her voice was a multitude of many voices and terrible, like steel wool grating along ceramic. Hermione shivered upon hearing it. She barely kept the cringe off her face at the sound of it.

"No, my lady," Malfoy said deferentially. He bowed his head and Hermione dropped her eyes, copying his movements. "We have called you forth to inquire about the curse of the Syreni people."

The snort that Nimue let loose was incongruous with how she looked and Hermione found herself glancing up sharply.

"I had wondered how long it would take one of the Syreni to come to me with questions." Malfoy seemed unsure of what to say to that. Hermione opened her mouth, but Nimue continued. "Go on, ask your questions."

"If we end the curse, what are our options?" Malfoy asked.

"What do you want them to be, Syreni?" Nimue asked. She was still chuckling slightly and the sound was as jarring as her voice. It seemed as if a hundred voices was buried in that one voice and Hermione didn't want to think too hard on what that implied.

"I wouldn't presume to tell you what we'd prefer," Malfoy deferred.

"I am directly asking," Nimue stated. Her voice hardened and Hermione felt herself sink lower, Malfoy grabbed her arm above her elbow fins, which stopped her tail from almost hitting the back side of the circle around them. Nimue's eyes narrowed at the small space between the edge of Hermione's tail and the circle. Hermione took a deep breath and straightened. Even she knew how dangerous it was to Summon a deity without a circle around her. Nimue would have the power to do all sorts of terrible things to her if she allowed the circle to break and fall.

"Some of the Syreni want to stay as Syreni," Malfoy said. "Others want to become human again. The Syreni would want to be able to reproduce."

Hermione looked at him sharply, he had certainly been thinking harder about this than she had. She hadn't considered that if the curse were broken, there couldn't be more Syreni made. That was all part of the curse to begin with.

"And if I make this happen?" Nimue asked. "Will the Syreni still worship at my feet?"

"Of course, my lady," Malfoy answered, bowing his head once more. "The Syreni will always revere The Lady of the Lake."

"Fine," Nimue snapped her fingers. "It shall be done. Break the jar around the Old-One and allow her to perish. Once that happens, the same spell that makes humans Syreni will do the reverse to any Syreni who wants to be human again. It has a limit, though. There will be no changing of the mind a month from now."

"Of course, my lady," Malfoy said, bowing his head even deeper. "You honor our people by allowing us to adore and idolize you."

"Be swift about it, Syreni," Nimue said. "Break the jar within the next two hours or the deal is off the table for good." And with that Nimue disappeared from view.

"Bloody hell," Hermione breathed, gazing at the spot where Nimue had just been.

"Come on, there is much to do in the next two hours," Malfoy said. He pointed his trident again at the circle and the subtle blue sheen that had surrounded them disappeared with a pop.

"You would do this, knowing you are consigning me to death?" the Old-One asked the moment they were clear of the circle.

"Do you honestly want to continue to live your life in this jar?" Hermione asked. "How fulfilling can your life really be?"

"It is enough," the Old-One said. "But if my people wish to be free, I shall make the necessary sacrifice."

Malfoy's eyebrows raised at that. Hermione suspected that he would have allowed the Old-One to die without her permission if it came to it. She wondered what that meant about how Malfoy had lived for the past five years. A few days ago he had seemed perfectly content to continue living the life of a Syreni. Now, he was willing to blow it all up. Hermione wasn't stupid enough to believe any of it had to do with her, regardless of what Malfoy said. He'd had a life before becoming Syreni. She was sure that he wanted to continue that life.

"Thank you," Malfoy nodded his head in reverence to the Old-One. "It eases my heart to know that you will allow this."

The Old-One nodded, but said nothing and turned away from them. Malfoy took that to mean they were dismissed and grabbed Hermione by the hand, pulling her out of the chamber with him.

"What are we doing?" Hermione asked as Malfoy led her back toward the hall where they ate their meals.

"Calling another council meeting. The Syreni people need to make a decision about their lives."

Malfoy led her through the corridors until they reached the hall. It was empty, which surprised Hermione, but then Malfoy approached a bell she hadn't noticed before. It hung high above the hall, near the coral ceiling. Malfoy pulled the cord and rang the bell. The sound was deafening and within moments Syreni began pouring into the hall.

"Thank you for coming to this impromptu meeting," Malfoy said. "We have spoken with blessed Nimue and have news. There is a way to not only break the curse of the Syreni but to preserve the Syreni, as well. Upon breaking the curse, Nimue will allow the Syreni the ability to reproduce—"

Muttering broke out across the hall.

"Will Nimue allow us to leave?" someone called out from near the back.

"If you choose to become human again, then yes. It is your choice. Stay as Syreni with the ability to reproduce or return to your human form."

"What do we have to do?" another voice called out.

"The way to break the curse is to the break the jar surrounding the Old-One and allow her to die. Once she has died, the spell that we cast to turn humans into Syreni will be reversed. However, it is a one-time operation," Malfoy said. "Once it's done, it's done and there will be no going back. We will no longer be able to change humans into Syreni after this."

More muttering broke out across the hall, some of it sounded excited and some of it sounded angry.

"What will you choose?" a woman's voice from near the front asked.

"I will return to being a human," Malfoy said. "I have enjoyed my time as Syreni, however, I long to walk upon the earth once more."

The chatter of the Syreni became overwhelming at this pronouncement. Malfoy banged his trident on the floor several times before gaining the attention of the crowd once more.

"If you would prefer to return as a human, please meet in the chamber of the Old-One in thirty minutes time. I will have Gillyweed for you all. The rest of you are free to join us if you wish. It has been a privilege to be your leader all these years."

Malfoy then turned from the crowd and left the hall. Hermione followed after him as conversation and noise erupted in their wake.

"Now where?" Hermione asked as he traveled through the corridors, almost faster than she could keep up.

"Grab anything you want from your room," Malfoy instructed. "We'll need all the Gillyweed we have and maybe more. How are your Bubble-Head Charms?"

"I can perform one," Hermione said.

"Good, then you might need to," Malfoy said without elaborating. Gillyweed was native to Scotland, so perhaps the stock that this Syreni colony had wasn't much. Which made sense if all they were using it for was to lure down a human every now and then.

* * *

Several minutes later, Hermione and Malfoy were back in the chamber with the Old-One and it was packed.

"Holy…" Hermione said as she and Malfoy weaved their way through the crowd. "How many Syreni live in the colony?" Hermione asked.

"Over four thousand," Malfoy murmured back. "This is only a couple of hundred, despite how many it looks like in this small space."

They slithered their way through the other Syreni and the chatter died down as they approached the Old-One. She had her back to the crowd. Hermione knew this would be difficult for her, but hopefully, she'd feel loved being surrounded by her kind as she went. Hermione had no idea how long it would take before she passed, but surely the magic holding her in the jar wouldn't last much longer without the vessel. She felt stupid for not having asked Nimue that question. What happened if the Old-One lasted for weeks?

"How many here are planning the transition back to human?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione was slightly relieved to see about half of the Syreni in the room raise their hands. That meant the rest were just here for the show.

"Malfoy, can you cast the spell on yourself?" Hermione asked.

"Unlikely," Malfoy said. "I'll have to get someone who is planning to stay down here to cast it."

"Anyone you trust?" Hermione asked as she watched Olivia begin to wind her way through the crowd. Hermione didn't want to fight with the other woman again, but she didn't like the look of fierce concentration on Olivia's face.

"We'll figure it out at the end," Malfoy said. He handed her the sack with the Gillyweed in it.

Malfoy approached the jar and said a few quiet words to the Old-One before pointing his trident at the base of the jar. A shot of red light later and the glass shattered around the Old-One. She practically collapsed, and would have fallen to the floor had Malfoy and Hermione not caught her.

"Give her here," an older Syreni woman said, opening her arms. Malfoy and Hermione gently lifted the frail body of the Old-One to the other Syreni woman.

"Thank you, Sarah," Malfoy said as he smoothed some of the grey hair out of the Old-One's face. "And thank you," he said to the Old-One, placing a kiss on her brow. "You are saving your people."

The Old-One reached a gnarled hand up and patted Malfoy's cheek before going limp entirely. Instantly, a sharp pain in Hermione's stomach had her bent over at the waist crying out. Every Syreni was the same, it was just enough for Sarah to almost drop the Old-One.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked as the pain began to subside.

"Reproductive organs," Hermione said. She didn't know for sure, but it was the only thing that made sense.

"Who volunteers to go first?" Malfoy asked once he had recovered.

Olivia fought her way through the crowd and raised her hand. "I'll go first."

Malfoy looked surprised, but Hermione felt dread pool in her belly. She felt sure that Olivia had an ulterior motive. Hermione handed Olivia a clump of Gillyweed.

"You'll want to eat that first," Malfoy said. Olivia stuffed the Gillyweed in her mouth. "Then swim for the surface first before swimming for land so that the Gillyweed doesn't wear off. You may want a warming charm as well. Do you have your wand?"

Olivia held up her wand and Malfoy pointed his trident at her. A flash of purple light from the trident and Olivia was swimming before them completely naked and with two legs. She shivered and Hermione cast a warming charm at her. Olivia glared at Hermione before turning and swimming for the surface. Hermione hoped that was the last she saw of her but had a feeling that it wouldn't be.

One by one, Syreni came forward and Hermione gave them Gillyweed while Malfoy turned them back to human. Once the Gillyweed ran out, Hermione began casting a combination Bubble-Head Charm and Reoxygenation Charm. She was exhausted by the time the last of the Syreni had made it through the line. Malfoy looked worn out, too.

"Anyone else?" Malfoy asked. The room had begun emptying almost entirely as the excitement from watching the others turn back to humans faded. There were just a few Syreni left and they all shook their heads.

Sarah was still in the room, and she approached them. "Are you both going up?"

"That's the plan," Malfoy said.

"Tell me the spell, I'll do you both," Sarah offered with a small smile.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled back. She hadn't met many of the Syreni, but Sarah had been exceedingly kind.

Malfoy went through the spell with her and handed her the trident. "Be good to each other," he said.

Sarah smiled one last time and Hermione cast her final Bubble-Head and Reoxygenation Charms at herself and Malfoy. A flash of purple and Hermione shivered as she became human once more. Malfoy had pulled his wand from somewhere and cast warming charms on them both before he led her out of the complex and to the surface. The swim was much, much harder as a human than it had been as a Syreni and by the time they had breached the surface, Hermione was panting hard. The sun was beginning to set and there was still a long swim back to the shoreline.

"Alright?" Malfoy asked as they both treaded water for a moment, trying to catch their breath.

"Yeah," Hermione panted. "We should get going before the sun sets."

Malfoy looked off to the west and nodded. He took off in a powerful breaststroke and Hermione followed him.

After what felt like ages, they were finally close enough to shore to touch their feet to the bottom. They walked the rest of the way to the rocky beach, almost too exhausted to move their arms.

Hermione had never been in so much pain. All she wanted to do was to curl up in her tent and sleep for at least a day. Perhaps even two. Instead, she was greeted by almost two hundred former Syreni, stranded on a beach in Dover.

"Shit, I didn't think about what to do when we got here," Hermione muttered to Malfoy as they all turned to look at them.

"We need to at least find shelter for the evening," Malfoy said, glancing around the empty beach.

"How good is your Gemino charm?" Hermione asked him.

"Why?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione waved her wand and admitted him to the wards surrounding her tent. It was in an open spot on the beach that the others had been avoiding.

"Oh, you brilliant witch," Malfoy murmured, throwing an arm around her shoulder. He planted a kiss in her hair and Hermione felt herself flush. That's when she realized she and everyone else were completely naked.

"I have some clothes in there too," Hermione said. "You copy the tent, I'll work on clothes for everyone."

* * *

The sun was truly down and the moon rising high by the time the newly turned humans were settling into the clothes and tents Hermione and Malfoy had conjured. It had taken hours, but finally, everyone had someplace to sleep, although most were doubled up. Hermione still had a few wards around her own tent. She was still wary of Olivia, even if the other witch hadn't caused any problems yet.

"Ready?" Malfoy asked, holding the flap of her tent open. Hermione glanced around the temporary settlement one last time before nodding and joining him. They were both fully clothed, but there was something intimate about sharing a tent for the evening. Hermione had sent a Patronus to Harry and Ron hours earlier, letting them know that she was alright but would be a few more days. She hoped that would be enough to stave them off for now. She couldn't imagine what they would think if they were to show up tomorrow.

"You still in there?" Malfoy said, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry, just thinking about the logistics of the next few days," Hermione admitted with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"I can help you turn that giant brain of yours off," Malfoy suggested with a slight smirk.

"What did you have in mind?" Hermione asked. Malfoy took two steps toward her and slipped on hand around her waist. The other cupped her face and within moments they were sharing their first kiss above water. For a brief moment, Hermione wondered if the chemistry between them had been imagined or a product of their environment, but the instant Malfoy's lips touched hers, she knew that wasn't the case. The same fire she'd felt in the Syreni complex now burned through her abdomen and her core clenched. A feeling she hadn't thought she would miss. The kiss was heated and Malfoy turned it up when he slid his tongue inside her mouth. Her nipples tightened beneath her clothes and Hermione knew she was lost. Lost to the sensations he was causing. Lost to the idea of being ravaged by him. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to be found.

"Take me to bed," Hermione whispered when the kiss finally ended.

"Oh, I plan to," Malfoy murmured against her cheek. He pressed a soft kiss along her jaw. "I have to test my theory, after all."

"Theory?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure she knew what he was talking about.

"Yes," Malfoy said. His breath was hot in her ear as his tongue traced the outer shell. "My theory that sinking my cock into your tight, hot cunt will feel _so_ much better than your fiddling with my elbow fins."

That time, Hermione's knees did buckle. But Malfoy caught her. He pressed his lips to hers once more as he walked them both toward the bed on the far side of the tent.

* * *

The following morning dawned bright and clear. And while the night before had been amazing, Hermione's anxiety was back. It felt like a punch in the gut. She knew she wasn't responsible for the two hundred other people on the beach, but she couldn't help but feel like she did bear some responsibility. The least she could do was to help get them to the Ministry so they could reacquaint themselves with the wizarding world.

Which is how she found herself on the beach directing people to pack up camp. Most of the people had their wands, which was infinitely helpful, however, it turned out that use of magic among the Syreni was rather rare. Magic didn't work properly underwater, so many fell out of using it entirely. They didn't need it in their simpler lives as Syreni. Which meant that many of the people she was trying to help were unable to Apparate. How was she going to get this many to the Ministry? The Knight Bus wouldn't hold them all, but maybe some of them? She'd have to check her funds, too.

"Where were you last night?" Hermione recognized that voice, but she didn't see Olivia anywhere.

"I'll be right back," Hermione said to the small group she'd been helping to pack up their tent. She figured the former Syreni should at least try and keep the tents in case they had to sleep rough for a bit.

Keeping an eye out for Olivia, Hermione went to look for Malfoy. He was one of the only Syreni to have used magic regularly so he had been helping Hermione get the rest of the group packed up.

After several moments in which her heart began beating faster and panic crept along her nerves, Hermione finally spotted Malfoy talking with Olivia near the edge of the water.

She hurried over to join them when it was clear to her that Malfoy was angry.

"...don't belong to you," Malfoy snapped.

"You know that's not true," Olivia replied, stepping forward to touch Malfoy's arm. "I made you who you are today."

"No, you tricked me into becoming one of you," Malfoy said. "I should have been angrier than I was at you at the time, but I see it clearly now."

"Only because that Mudblood bitch figured out a way to end the curse!" Olivia shouted. "If it weren't for her, we'd still be down there and happy!"

"You are fucking delusional," Malfoy said. "We hadn't spoken in at least two years. I want nothing to do with you, Olivia Carver." Malfoy took a deep breath and turned his head, catching Hermione's eye. She was just paces from them and had heard most of the argument. Malfoy held out his hand and Hermione stepped forward to take it. He pulled her close and placed a kiss on the top of Hermione's head. Thankfully, Hermione had the grace not to blush.

"I can't fucking believe that you would give up being the leader of the Syreni for this cow," Olivia spat. Hermione glared at the other woman but didn't say anything for a long moment. She wanted to see how far Olivia would go.

"She's done _nothing_ for this world except dirty it up with her dirty blood. What would your parents think?"

"Woah, you can't honestly claim to care what his parents think when you were the one to lure him to the Syreni colony," Hermione said dropping Malfoy's hand and stepping closer to Olivia.

"I know better than you do, Mudblood," Olivia sneered at Hermione.

Hermione knew she had made mistakes in her life, but what happened next, she'd never regret. She shoved Olivia hard in the shoulders.

Olivia shouted as she fell onto her bum in the surf. A huge wave came in just then, soaking the other woman completely and a flash of green light almost blinded Hermione. She glanced away for a moment and when she looked back Olivia's legs had disappeared and an emerald green Syreni tail took their place. Olivia looked at that tail for a long moment, horror creeping over her face before letting loose an almost unearthly shriek and swimming out to sea.

"So I guess the beach is out as a place to live, then?" Malfoy said, wrapping his arms around Hermione and dragging her back several steps.

"I...I—"

"Shh," Malfoy hushed her, placing a kiss on the side of her neck. "She deserved it."

Hermione didn't deny that she did. Nor did she deny that she felt better knowing Olivia wouldn't be out there, a threat to her or Malfoy. She didn't know for sure but rather hoped that whatever she had with Malfoy was worth condemning Olivia to life as a Syreni.

 _~Fin~_


	17. Come What May

**Written for Hermione's Haven Bunny Bounce 2019 for xxDustNight88!**

 **My Prompt:**

 **19 years later, Hermione was ready to enjoy life and her career to the fullest. And she does, for a while. One day she comes home to her flat to find a face from the past. Now she has to figure out how to get him back before everything dissolves into chaos. But what happens when he shows her just how much he wants to stay?**

 **A/N: Many thanks to the lovely Khyharah &** **magzillasaurus for betaing this piece for me! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff and Facebook at Shan Crochetaway.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review!**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/James Potter**

 **Rating: Mature**

 **Summary: James Potter makes a choice, changing Hermione Granger's life forever**.

* * *

 **Come What May**

* * *

 _Nowhere, Everywhere, No Time, Every Time_

* * *

"The decision is yours." The voice of the three fates was terrible, grating like a fork against a ceramic plate, but worse somehow, and it took James Potter everything he had to not press his hands against his ears. How was he supposed to make this decision? Or rather, which decision was the best one for him?

"What did Lily, Sirius, and Remus decide?" James asked. He felt weak for asking, but at the end of the day, he had to know. He still held out some hope that he would see Lily again.

"Lily Evans Potter has moved on and was not given, nor eligible for a choice. Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin were given the same choice as you. We cannot tell you the fates of others. We can only offer you a choice. Reincarnation or restoration?" Again, James had to grit his teeth as they spoke. He should stop asking them questions. It wasn't helping the headache that was forming at the base of his skull.

"How does restoration work, then?" James asked. Then immediately kicked himself when he realized he'd have to listen to them speak again. The fates were three, but they spoke as one, their voices a multitude.

The fates sighed, and if possible, that sound was worse than them talking. This time James did shove his hands over his ears before removing them once more. Clotho was the young girl, Lachesis the woman, and Atropos the crone; all three were wearing red and when they had pulled James here from the afterlife he had been enjoying, he had thought he had done something wrong. It turned out he was being offered a choice. How was he supposed to decide? He didn't want to forget about his past life, and Merlin, if restoration was a possibility, then he could see Harry again. James was strongly considering it.

"Restoration means you retain this body," Lachesis said, indicating him. The voice of one fate wasn't as terrible as all three, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. The power of her voice thrummed through him and James shuddered. "You retain all memories of your past and you will be assigned a handler to help you readapt to life. The past, present, and future are intertwined, but the opening we have for you is in 2017."

"2017!" James shouted. "That's like," he did some quick math in his head, "thirty-six years after I died! My son will be thirty-seven years old! How—"

" _ **SILENCE**_!" the fates roared at him; the power of their voices so strong that it whipped up a wind, blowing it directly into James' face. He rocked back a step before settling again once the wind had died down. Although the fates looked the same, James could feel a current of annoyance emanating from them.

Somehow, James knew they weren't going to accept any more questions. He took a deep breath and glanced around the dull, grey room the fates had brought him to. Reincarnation or restoration? Was it really much of a choice after all?

"Restoration," he whispered. He hoped at least one of them, Sirius or Remus, had chosen the same. He would have liked to see them again. His heart hurt, knowing he would never see Lily again. But it's not like she had been in the afterlife with him and the remaining Marauders. He wouldn't be missing her any more than he already was. Better to retain his memories of his wife and friends than be born anew without them.

"So it shall be done. Come what may," the fates intoned and everything went black.

* * *

 _12 June 2017_

* * *

Hermione barged through the front door of her flat, flicking it closed behind her with her wand. She had much to get done tonight. Setting her bag on her kitchen table, with a few more wand flicks she had a simple meal cooking and hot water for tea boiling on the cooker. She strode back to her bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. Ever since her divorce from Ron, Hermione made sure to keep strict office hours. Nobody said she couldn't take work home with her. And really, it only made sense to take care of herself. There were only so many times she could see the cleaning staff at the Ministry give her that sad, mournful look before she snapped and hexed them.

She had her shirt off and her trousers undone by the time she reached her bedroom door. Flicking it open with her wand, she sent her blouse to the hamper in the corner and promptly screamed when she spotted the man asleep in her bed.

"Wha— Hu—" The man sat up quickly, looking around blearily and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Harry James Potter! What are you doing asleep in my damned bed? What are you even doing in the country? I thought you were—"

The man grabbed a pair of spectacles, a style Harry hadn't worn since they were children and shoved them onto his face. That's when Hermione realized she still wasn't wearing a shirt, and she Summoned her robe from the hook behind the door, quickly wrapping it around herself. The man in her bed wasn't Harry. His eyes weren't green.

"Who the fuck are you? And why are you using bad Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione asked, leveling her wand at the man.

"Bad Polyjuice? What are you talking about?" The man shook his head like he was confused and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You look like Harry Potter, but I know for a fact you aren't him. How else do you explain it?" Hermione hissed. Her patience was wearing thin. The last thing she needed to deal with tonight was a crazy fan trying to get in with the only single member of the 'Golden Trio.' She had assumed her reputation for severely hexing anyone who crossed her would protect her, but clearly, it did not. How did he even get past her wards? They had been up and functional when she walked in. Perhaps she'd have someone from the Ministry look at them. Obviously, there was a design flaw.

"Harry Potter is my son," the man said standing from the bed and holding his hands up, palms facing her as if trying to placate her.

"James Potter has been dead for thirty-six years," Hermione said. She looked closely at him, his eyes were hazel and he looked so much like Harry, but his jaw was squarer and his hair a length that Harry rarely kept his anymore.

"Not anymore," he grinned. "Who are you?"

"You know perfectly well who I am!" Hermione spat. "I just hope the shit Polyjuice you imbibed doesn't kill you before I can get the Aurors here."

"Woah! Love, no need to call the Aurors. I promise I am who I say I am. Didn't you get the notice? You're supposed to be my handler, right?" The poor Harry Potter imitator smiled at her and while Hermione thought it was dazzling, it also irritated her. Did he think he was charming?

"Listen, people don't just come back to life," Hermione said. "Do you even know the dangers of long-term use of Polyjuice Potion? I guarantee you, it isn't pretty. Just give up the act and let me call the authorities. Perhaps I could be persuaded to not press charges for breaking into my flat if you get the proper help you need."

The man threw his head back and laughed. Hermione scowled at him.

"Here, I'll prove I'm James Potter. You said you know my son? Well, then you'll know he has a birthmark on his lower back, looks like a lumpy, upside down '7'. Also, he's got green eyes like his moth—"

"Literally, everyone on the fucking planet knows that," Hermione interrupted. "Harry Potter is the most written about wizard in British Wizarding History. You can spout all the facts you want about him, but I could tell you which book or article they were cited in."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that was so Harry, it startled Hermione.

"Tell me something about Lily," Hermione murmured.

The look of raw sadness in the man's eyes threatened to overwhelm Hermione. She'd always thought that James and Lily Potter's romance was exactly that, romantic. Tragic, but romantic nonetheless.

"Brightest witch of our year," he said. "I thought she was perfect, amazing. Had ever since first year. She hated me though, called me a toe-rag," he laughed ruefully. "She was so damned smart, figured out Remus was a werewolf in third year. By the time sixth year rolled around, I'd finally calmed down enough that she looked at me with new eyes…"

"Holy shit, you're James Potter," Hermione breathed as she realized exactly who this man was.

"Told you, love," James grinned at her. Hermione stared at him, completely gobsmacked. James Potter was dead, but this man didn't look dead. Not even close. He didn't look his age either, he'd be fifty-seven or so if Hermione's math was correct. She peered closer at him. He didn't look older than forty.

"How are you here?" Hermione asked. "You should be dead. Did you not really die? I have never heard of anything like this before."

"Well, I was given a choice from the fa—" suddenly James seemed to be unable to talk. He choked, coughed, tried to get the words out but his face turned red than blue. He bent over at the waist, his hands on his throat.

Hermione looked at him in alarm and slammed her hand on his back. After a long moment of coughing, James stood up, his face was red and he had tears leaking from his eyes.

"Guess I can't talk about it," he said, his voice hoarse from the coughing fit.

"Merlin," Hermione whispered, staring at him. _What the fuck was she going to do?_

* * *

 _13 June 2017_

* * *

The following morning, Hermione left James alone in her flat with instructions on how to use the telly. She probably had enough time to take off of work, but she wanted to do some research in the Ministry Archives about James' situation. He'd explained what he was allowed to of his 'afterlife' as he called it and Hermione had decided that he had truly died. It was strange though, that Lily, who he ostensibly died with, hadn't been in the afterlife with him. Sirius and Remus had been though, which was telling considering they both died years after James did. She'd tried to ask what it was like prior to Remus and Sirius showing up, but James shook his head and didn't answer. Hermione didn't know what that meant. Perhaps he'd been alone? How lonely would that have been? She shuddered at the thought.

The Ministry wasn't very busy this early in the morning as Hermione made her way up to her office. She had a meeting with the Minister in about an hour, but she hoped she could call a few books up from the Ministry Archive before then.

She hadn't been in her office for longer than a minute when someone knocked on her door. She finished hanging up her cloak and flicked her wand, opening the door. She was surprised to see an Unspeakable standing there. Unspeakables were generally never seen this high up in the Ministry.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked. She didn't recognize the Unspeakable, but Hermione wasn't surprised about that. Unspeakables were chosen in part because they weren't very memorable.

"Hermione Granger-Weasley?" he asked.

"Just Hermione Granger these days," Hermione said with a tight smile.

"Have a seat," he indicated her desk chair and she narrowed her eyes at him before doing what he asked.

"What can I do for you, Mr…?"

"My name is unimportant." He thrust a sealed envelope at her. Hermione frowned before taking it from him. Her name was printed on the front in an old-fashioned script. Nothing else was on the envelope. She flipped it over and examined the wax seal, but it was blurred and difficult to see. She thought she could see three women, but it was difficult to make out. The Unspeakable cleared his throat. Hermione didn't respond to his sound of impatience, except to open the envelope and read the missive inside.

"I don't understand," she said once she read the letter. She skimmed it again, still confused and shook her head.

"It's quite clear," the Unspeakable said, his voice indicating his annoyance. "You've been chosen by the fates to become a handler. This hardly ever happens, last recorded history was over five hundred years ago. But you've been chosen, nothing to do about it now. Come what may."

"Well, this saves me from a bit of research, I suppose," Hermione said. "James Potter showed up at my flat last night. What do I do now?"

"Acclimate him to the times, help him if he needs it, then set him free," the Unspeakable said before standing.

"What about his citizenship, does he need to be reinstated? There's a whole bureaucratic mess to deal with when someone comes back to life," Hermione replied.

"I trust the Senior Advisor to the Minister for Magic is capable of handling such matters," the Unspeakable intoned and then swept from her office.

Hermione looked down at the letter in her hands. At least now she had some sort of an explanation for why James Potter had shown up in her flat. But why her? And how was this even possible? She still had another half hour until her meeting with Kingsley, so Hermione dashed off a quick memo to her assistant asking for a variety of books and histories from the Archives. Perhaps if she knew how this happened five hundred years ago, it would clue her in to why it was happening again.

That settled, Hermione tried to figure out the words to write to Harry. Clearly, he needed to come back early from his assignment abroad. Thirty minutes later and the parchment in front of her was still blank. How did one tell their best friend that their dad wasn't dead after all?

* * *

That night when Hermione returned home, James was still in front of the telly, but he had fallen asleep at some point. She picked up the remote and clicked the telly off, frowning at her guest. She hadn't had time to write Harry, perhaps she'd find the words she needed tomorrow. Shuffling into the kitchen, Hermione began to make a simple dinner of pasta and salad. She was almost finished when she felt someone looking at her, a glance over her shoulder told her James was leaning in the doorway to her kitchen. Hermione flushed when she realized how good she thought he looked just then.

"Dinner's almost finished," Hermione muttered as she turned back to the sauce she was simmering.

"Can I help?" James asked.

"Set the table." She flicked her wand and the cupboard with the dishes opened.

Hermione and James settled at the table in a somewhat awkward silence. Finally, after a long moment, Hermione began telling James what she'd learned that day from the Department of Mysteries.

"It's funny, a case hasn't happened like this in over five hundred years. So what did you do to get a choice?" Hermione mused.

James looked guilty for a moment and Hermione wondered if he knew exactly what he'd done.

"What aren't you telling me?" Hermione asked.

"I think it has to do with a device we created in our sixth year," James said, rubbing the back of his neck. Another gesture that was so uniquely Harry that Hermione had to blink her eyes. It was James in front of her, not Harry. She needed to keep that in mind.

"The Marauder's Map," Hermione said. "Did you imbue it with bits of your soul or something?"

"Soul and magical core. It's how it has a personality when you don't know the password," James grinned at her cheekily, then frowned. "How do you know about the map?"

"I'm best friends with your son. Who incidentally got the map from the Weasley twins who nicked it from Filch's office."

"Nice! But, man, the map was in Filch's office for that long? That's a bummer."

"So the map gave you a choice, I didn't think to ask, but the Unspeakable I spoke with today didn't mention other cases…"

"I suspect Sirius wanted to forget it all happened," James said sadly. "And Remus is too much of a rule-follower to not move on."

"So it's just you," Hermione said sadly.

"Lucky you," James winked at her, startling Hermione into a laugh.

James was fascinating, Hermione found. He was so alike Harry in looks and gestures, but his confidence, and even arrogance was nothing like his son. And he had a surprising manner that made her laugh. If she wasn't careful, she was worried she'd be in a bit of trouble.

* * *

 _16 June 2017_

* * *

James was stuck inside Hermione's apartment for the better part of the week. Hermione told him she wanted to strategize over the weekend about how to announce his return.

"I can't just be anonymous?" James asked.

"Merlin, no. You're the dead father of the most famous wizard alive. And you look just like him. No, we need a plan. And the first part of that plan will have to include Harry," Hermione told him.

James had more questions than answers about Hermione's relationship with Harry. They were friends, but the way Hermione talked about him, made him wonder if they were something more at some point in the past. He'd scoured Hermione's bookshelves for books on his son. She'd made the comment he was the most written about wizard, and he found she wasn't wrong. He found four books alone detailing his son's life and escapades on Hermione's shelves and each of those referenced other books and articles that Hermione didn't have in her collection.

Finally, Friday evening rolled around and James had just finished reading the last of Hermione's books on Harry. There were a few others he was interested in reading as well, including one about Dumbledore's life. Hermione had filled him in on the gist of what happened in the last thirty-six years and frankly, James was stunned. He had no idea his and Lily's deaths would spark another war.

"Those are the best of the bunch," Hermione said when she saw the stack of books next to him. She'd just breezed through the door and with a flick of her wand sent her bag and coat off to their proper places. "There are loads more, but those are the most factual. Although, none of them have all the details, of course." She settled onto the sofa next to him, moving the books out of the way. She sat with one leg tucked underneath her, facing him.

"Why not?"

"Because, Harry, Ron, and I spent a year tracking down magic that we don't want anyone else knowing about. We don't want anyone getting any ideas," Hermione said with a slight shudder.

"Ron?"

"Ron Weasley, my ex-husband, incidentally."

"I didn't know you were married," James said, cocking his head to the side. "Any kids?"

"Two actually," Hermione replied. "Who did you think all the redheads in the photos around the flat were? They live with their father during the summer months."

"Eh, I didn't much think about it," James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"What?"

"You and Harry, you're so alike in so many ways. And yet completely different. It's…strange."

There she went, talking about his son again, making James want to know what their relationship really was. Before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth. Sirius used to call it his word-vomit, this inability to keep his mouth shut. Remus called it foot-in-mouth syndrome. Whatever it was, James still couldn't help it.

"What sort of relationship do you have with Harry anyway?" His eyes widened and he clapped his hand over his mouth.

Hermione laughed again. "It's natural for you to want to know. Are you worried about something in particular?"

James considered her for a long moment, before leaning forward and tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "Just want to make sure I'm not encroaching on someplace my son has already been."

Hermione's breath hitched as she stared up at him. He knew his words could have been more elegant, but she didn't seem to mind. His eyes slipped down toward her lips, then back up at her eyes, asking for permission. She nodded, ever so slightly, and just as his lips were about to touch hers, there was a knock at her door.

"Hermione! You in there?" someone asked in between pounds.

James groaned, hanging his head.

"Oh, shit! You've got to hide," Hermione said, pulling James up by his hand and dragging him down the hallway to her bedroom.

"What do you mean hide?" James asked.

"That's Harry!" she hissed. "What in the world is he doing back? Merlin, I haven't had a chance to write him."

"I want to see him," James said, suddenly not moving.

"You can just give me a minute to explain, please?" Hermione asked. "I promise, I'll let you two talk tonight."

James frowned at her and allowed her to lead her into her bedroom.

"Hermione?" the shouting came again.

"Coming, Harry!" Hermione said as she shut the door to the bedroom and hurried down the hallway. The bedroom door muffled their conversation, although James put his ear to the wood, hoping to hear something, anything really. He didn't have a wand yet. Apparently that wasn't something one took into the afterlife and then back out of it. He tried to hear what Harry and Hermione were discussing, but all he could hear was the muffled sound of voices.

He wanted to pace, his palms were sweating. He was about to come face-to-face with his son for the first time in decades and he didn't know how he was feeling. The last time he'd seen Harry, he had been a baby, barely over a year old. And now he was a grown man with a wife and kids of his own. Merlin, he was a grandfather. The thought hit him like a physical blow to the gut and he doubled-over, sinking to the floor with his back against the door. He buried his head into his hands as he tried to come to grips with what his life would be now.

The door attempting to nudge open behind him brought him around moments later.

"James?" Hermione asked softly, knocking lightly on the door.

He scrambled up and whipped the door open. Just Hermione was standing there, but a quick glance behind her showed there was someone sitting in the lounge.

"Harry would like to speak with you," Hermione said. "Turned out that he felt like he was needed at home so he cut the mission short."

"Mission?" James asked, focusing back on Hermione.

She smiled at him. "He's an Auror, head of the department actually."

"Like me," James grinned at her. Before he could think twice of it, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him with surprise, before moving out of the way and allowing James to go and greet his son.

* * *

 _19 June 2017_

* * *

Hermione sighed quietly as she rolled over in bed to stare at the wall. James and Harry had talked for hours on Friday evening, stretching into Saturday morning. Harry had finally left her flat near dawn and James had fallen asleep on the sofa. Hermione didn't have the heart to move him, so she left a note and slipped out the door. She didn't often work on Saturdays, but she felt that James probably needed some time to himself.

She'd gotten in deep with a law on werewolves and hadn't arrived home Saturday evening until well after ten to find James either still asleep on the sofa, or asleep again. Hermione had shuffled off to her bedroom and slept like the dead until waking moments ago.

The sun streamed through her window and she watched as the dust motes danced in its beams. The cat was out of the bag for Harry, now to put the rest of her plan in motion. She sighed, it wasn't going to be easy, but when had Hermione ever gone for the easy route? No, the hardest part would be recognizing her burgeoning feelings for James for what they were and then burying them deep. James didn't need the complication that she would bring to his life. Merlin, she could see the headline of the _Daily Prophet_ now. 'GOLDEN TRIO MEMBER SINKS HER CLAWS INTO BOY-WHO-LIVED'S RESURRECTED FATHER!'

She shuddered at the thought and closed her eyes. Perhaps she could allow herself the day to wallow before setting everything in motion that would announce James Potter's arrival into the wizarding world once again.

At the edge of sleep, Hermione thought that she'd heard her bedroom door open, but she ignored it and burrowed deeper into her bed, waiting for oblivion to take her once more.

She groaned under her breath when she felt the bed dip. Maybe he would think she was asleep and go away.

"Hermione?" he asked softly.

No such luck.

She rolled over and opened her eyes to see James looking down at her with a pensive expression.

"Morning," she grunted and sat up against the headboard. She pulled the sheet up, despite being fully clothed, she still felt a little naked sitting in her bed with a handsome wizard.

"You alright?" James asked cautiously.

Hermione gritted her teeth and nodded. He didn't need to know the ridiculous thoughts she had in the middle of the night about him. How she longed for him to kiss her like he seemed to want to do just before Harry had knocked on her door a few days ago.

"Right," James nodded, running his hands through his hair. "The thing is…" he trailed off and looked intensely at her for a long moment.

"Yes?" Hermione asked. She held her breath. She had no idea what he was going to say. Would he terminate their fledgling whatever this was? Or had he forgotten about it in the wake of meeting Harry? Was he going to ask to go live with Harry? Not that Hermione could or would stop him if that was what he wanted, but the idea of him not being at her flat anymore was devastating.

"Merlin, I can hear your brain working from here," James chuckled lightly. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione was startled and jumped, not moving for a long moment, until James kissed her again and again, that time sweeping his tongue along the seam of her lips. She groaned and melted against him as she finally returned the kiss. He dragged her forward until she was straddling him. Her hands tangled in his hair and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt like a teenager again, her hormones going into overdrive. He snogged her like he was drowning and only she could save him. Hermione was quite sure she'd never had a snog like this before.

She poured everything she had been feeling over the last week into this kiss. All her fears and the hopes she almost hadn't dared to hope. James took them all and gave them back tenfold. When they both finally pulled away, they were each panting. James' eyes were dilated to the point of being almost entirely black and Hermione was could feel his hardened length pressed against her core. Her hips rocked almost instinctively and James groaned, flexing his own hips beneath her. Hermione's hands drifted to his face and she kissed him again.

This kiss was more languid, an exploration of each other. One of James' hands drifted up the back of her shirt and the skin-on-skin contact had Hermione groaning into his mouth. She should stop. They should stop. They definitely shouldn't take this the way it was headed, but Hermione couldn't find the self-control to make it end. It felt too good, too right. It was like everything she had been missing with Ron was right here in front of her.

They were both naked before Hermione's brain had caught up to her body and she had James aligned to her center.

"Please," James said, looking deeply into her eyes as Hermione slowly, so slowly, slid down and settled herself on his cock. It felt like completion having him inside her and she was moving before she could think more about it. She didn't want to think. She only wanted to feel. Come what may.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	18. Flat of Our Own

**Written for Draco's Den SChool's Out Fic Exchange! Many thanks to brownlark42 for her beta skills!**

 **My prompt was: 'The characters sneak away from the Hogwarts graduation celebration to have a few moments alone while everyone is preoccupied. Somewhere outside, maybe by the black lake or anywhere else on the grounds. They reminisce on the last year or so and talk about the future.'**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review!**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Theo Nott**

 **Rating: T**

 **Summary: Hermione and Theo spend a bit of time together on one of the last nights of their school career.**

* * *

 **Flat of Our Own**

* * *

 _30 June 1999_

"Come on," Theo Nott whispered to Hermione Granger from behind her. "I have something for us."

"Not now, they are—"

Theo planted a slow kiss, just behind Hermione's ear and Hermione's resolve crumbled completely. He tugged on her hand and Hermione went with him, slipping through the crowded Great Hall and out a small side-door behind a Slytherin House tapestry. The door opened into a small courtyard filled with rose bushes.

"Theo, the Headmistress's speech isn't over," Hermione muttered as he pulled her along.

"It doesn't matter. I have something better planned," Theo grinned over his shoulder at her. Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest at that grin. Theo had been a surprise this year. One of the only other students from her original year to return for their 'eighth' year, he had offered his friendship during the Welcome Feast. Hermione knew who he was, of course. He was always second to her in any class they shared, but she had been reluctant at first to form a friendship with him.

She and Ron had just gotten out of a brief, but tumultuous affair that had been splashed across every wizarding paper in Britain and half of the papers in Europe. She had wanted to spend the year focused on her studies, hoping to earn an unheard of eleven NEWTs. But Theo had been persistent. Always sitting at her library table, taking meals with her, even walking with her to and from class. He didn't say anything, just walked with her. Finally, she had become so used to his presence that she had asked him a question during a study session in the library. They had become fast friends from there.

It wasn't until the winter holidays that they had become something more. Both she and Theo were two of the only students staying at the castle over the holidays. Hermione's parents had sold their home in London and she hadn't really expected to survive the war. So she hadn't exactly planned on coming back to either her home or Hogwarts ever again. She had nowhere to go except the Burrow or Grimmauld Place, and neither appealed to her for obvious reasons. Ron was living with Harry at Grimmauld while they were in their Auror training program. With the breakup with Ron, Hermione wasn't sure what her reception at the Burrow would be.

Theo stayed for similar reasons. His father had been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, and it was either rattle around at his decrepit manor house or stay at the school. It had been an easy choice, or so he told Hermione.

"Come on," Theo whispered, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. She gasped as they turned a small bend in the path around the lake and Theo's plan materialized.

Fairy lights hung from the trees in a small clearing, creating a warm glow in the late evening air. A blanket was laid on the ground with a small feast spilling from it. There was music playing from somewhere too. Something low and light, with stringed instruments.

"Theo, this is amazing," Hermione breathed as she took it all in. "You did this for me?"

Theo grinned at her and caught her around the waist, moving them in a slow dance in time to the music. "I'd do anything for you," he said, placing a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "Do you like it?"

"It's very romantic," Hermione sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Theo. It felt like home, dancing in his arms. A soft breeze swept through the clearing, causing gooseflesh to rise on Hermione's arms.

They danced for several moments more, before Theo guided her down to the blanket. He pulled out a bottle of elf-made wine and poured them both a glass.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," Hermione said, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. She and Theo had been dating since the Yule holidays, but they hadn't made many moves on the physical side of things.

Theo smirked at her. "But then I wouldn't get to see you make that face."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her lap. She hadn't known she needed someone as careful and attentive as Theo was about her feelings. But she truly felt cared for when in his presence and it was something she was still getting used to.

"Come here," Theo motioned her closer. Hermione scooted until she was tucked in next to him. Theo was leaning against the trunk of a tree and moved so that Hermione was lying against his chest, between his legs. She sighed as she watched the stars come out, one by one.

"They're beautiful," Hermione murmured.

Theo kissed her cheek, running a hand up and down her arm. "I can't wait to leave school in a few days," he murmured.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked.

Theo chuckled and Hermione could feel it vibrate through her back. It felt delicious, being in his arms like this.

"First, I'm going to find a flat," Theo announced. "Preferably one close to where yours is."

Hermione bit her lip. She'd been meaning to ask him for a month at least, and this seemed like it would be the perfect time, but she was nervous. "Would you like…" she trailed off, unable to get the words out.

"I'd like anything you'd like," Theo whispered into her ear, causing Hermione to shudder as his hot breath washed over her.

"Move into my flat with me," Hermione stated, half-turning in his arms so she could face him.

Theo's brow furrowed for a moment before clearing. "Are you sure? We haven't—"

"I'm sure," Hermione said. "It makes sense. Please?"

"Anything you wish," Theo murmured and covered her lips with his own. Hermione sighed into the kiss. Theo raised a hand and cupped her cheek, holding the back of her head, directing her. She felt so safe, so cared for, so loved.

"Love you," Hermione murmured once Theo broke the kiss. He inhaled sharply and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She had been thinking it for months but hadn't said it yet. "I love you, Theo," she repeated.

The grin on Theo's face was worth it. He dove back in for another kiss, this one more heated. It had Hermione's brain misfiring and when it finally broke, she found herself flat on her back, with Theo hovering over her.

"Hermione," he breathed, his nose nudging along hers. "I love you." She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him to her and he dropped with a groan. She loved the way his body covered her, the weight of him pressing into her was heavenly.

One of Theo's hands slid along her thigh and pushed her dress up toward her hips. Hermione arched her back. She and Theo had done a lot of kissing, but not much else. She pulled back.

"I—"

"Shit, Hermione, I'm sorry," Theo said suddenly, dropping his face into the crook of her neck and removing his hand from her thigh. "I'm sorry. I got carried away. Please—"

"Theo." Hermione still had her arms wrapped around his shoulders. "It's alright, Theo." She rubbed his back. "I—I liked it," she whispered.

Theo shuddered and placed a kiss against her neck. "Me too. But I won't push you. I promised I wouldn't."

"I know." Hermione smiled at him as he pulled his head up to look at her eyes. "That's one of the reasons I love you," she said, placing a soft kiss against his lips. Theo returned the kiss then rolled off to lay beside her. He held out his arm and allowed her to lay her head on his shoulder as he cuddled her close.

"I can't wait until we have a flat of our own," Theo murmured into her hair. Hermione giggled into his side and couldn't agree more.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	19. Grey Magic

**Written for the Slytherin Cabal's FB group Death By Quill 2019 Round 1 writing challenge. I love this challenge and participate every year! My pairing was Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy and the prompt was Mirror Magic!**

 **Thank you to AlexandraO and ElleMartin for their hard beta work! The Latin was translated with the help of Google Translate.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy**

 **Rating: E**

 **Summary: Hermione finds a magic mirror in Grimmauld Place, instead of leaving it alone as Harry and Ron implore her, she is fascinated. When she decides to perform a soulmate spell using the magic mirror, everything goes wrong.**

* * *

 **Grey Magic**

* * *

"Mirror, mirror on the wall…" Hermione Granger trailed off as she contemplated the spell she was about to perform. A quick glance over her shoulder told her the door was still closed. She had found this mirror after she, Harry, and Ron moved back into Grimmauld Place after the war ended. Instantly, she'd been fascinated. It had an ornate, almost renaissance gilt frame, and was larger than Hagrid. Harry had immediately called in the Aurors who handled dark artifacts to assess how dangerous it was. Very dangerous it turned out. They'd offered to take it away, but Harry couldn't bear to give away anything that used to belong to Sirius. So instead, they hid it up here, in the dark, shadowy attic where Buckbeak used to sleep.

The books that Mrs Weasley had quarantined way back in fifth year hadn't ever been destroyed. Harry and Ron didn't have any idea the extent of reading Hermione had done. They, too, were hidden away in the house and Hermione had found them and read them all.

Her relationship with Ron was going alright, for now, but they had periods where it felt like they were flatmates and not lovers. It was disappointing, to say the least. She'd always longed for a passionate romance, more rip their clothes off of each other and less order a pizza and watch the telly. Ron was definitely the latter. So when she'd stumbled across the soulmate spell in one of those dark, hidden away books, she felt compelled to try it. All it called for was a magic mirror, and Hermione knew where to find one. Something about thT mirror called to her.

She squared her shoulders to the mirror, barely able to see herself in the dim light of the attic and held her wand aloft, speaking in a low voice.

" _Speculo speculum murum. Dic mihi quis ego sum; dic mihi quis ego sum ut vinctum; dic mihi, quis est anima coniugi. Speculo speculum murum._ "

A bright light flashed from within the mirror and Hermione watched fascinated as her dim outline shifted and moved to accommodate the newcomer. He was tall, much taller than her, and his hair was long, raggedy, so dirty Hermione couldn't quite tell what color it was. As the light in the mirror grew, the man stood next to her and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.

Suddenly, despite the dirt and grime, Hermione recognized him. She stumbled back with a shout.

"NO! No, no, no, no," she chanted as she stared at the mirror in horror. Her mirror self, smiled up at the man, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his jaw. The man smirked, and it made Hermione's insides go cold.

" _Confringo_!" Hermione shouted, her wand pointed directly at the man in the mirror. The glass shattered, exploding outward and Hermione flinched, cowering away from the sharp glass shards that flew at her. For a long moment, the broken frame hung awkwardly, seemingly suspended in time, before crashing to the dusty floorboards.

Hermione was horrified. How could that...that man be her soulmate? It wasn't possible, was it?

* * *

Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban for over three years. There was no getting out of it this time, no escaping, and all he could do was serve his time until his scheduled release in another twelve years. He spent most of his time lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling and contemplating elaborate escape schemes—always dead ends, of course—and even more elaborate ideas for how he could have avoided this in the first place. Today was different, however. One moment, he was lying on his cot listening to the wind blow in its particularly icy way, and the next moment Lucius was lying on his back on the rocky outcropping across the way from the island that held Azkaban.

He sat up quickly as the frigid wind whipped off the salty sea, making his hair dance around his head, despite its grimy condition. He could see Azkaban through the low clouds and fog, it towered over the North Sea, as the ocean beat at its sides. The ocean was always raging this far north.

How had he managed to get himself free? He hadn't even been trying to free himself. He had only been daydreaming of what it would like to be free years from now. Then he felt a tug on his navel. It wasn't like the tug of a Portkey, more like the tug of a spell, drawing him toward something...or some _one._

Had someone freed him? On purpose or by accident? Lucius didn't know, but he was determined to find out. The first thing he needed was a wand. And perhaps a hot shower.

"Oi! What are you doing out here?" a gruff voice from behind him asked. Lucius turned slowly to see the boatman limping toward him. He could see a small house in the distance that the boatman lived in. Perfect.

"Seems I was released early for good behavior," Lucius said as the boatman drew closer. The boatman eyed him with suspicion and drew his wand.

"Didn't hear nothing about no release," the man said.

"You wouldn't have," Lucius agreed. Quick as lightning, he shoved the man hard, right in the middle of his chest, and snatched the wand the other man held. Lucius breathed heavily as the boatman shouted and coughed, trying to stand. Lucius cast a full-body bind at him, though his magic moved sluggishly through the wand. He left the boatman there as he made his way across the rocky shoreline to the boatman's house. Hopefully, he could attune himself enough to the wand to get to London.

That pulse deep in his abdomen told him that's where he needed to be: London.

* * *

Hermione didn't tell Harry or Ron what happened in the attic with the mirror. She cleaned the mess up the best she could and threw a dust cloth over the entire thing. It wasn't like Harry or Ron would be going up there anytime soon anyway, not with how busy they were with work. She'd been lucky that neither of them had been home when she'd attempted the spell. Obviously, it hadn't worked. There was no way that a wizard who believed so doggedly in pureblood supremacy was her soulmate.

But when her abdomen ached the next morning, she knew, deep down he had to be. The spell's side effects wouldn't be taking place if it hadn't worked. No, she'd done the spell correctly, just as every other spell she'd ever tried. The pulse in her belly wanted her to go north, but Hermione ignored it. He was locked away in Azkaban. There was no use attempting to go there. Even if he did accept her as a visitor, what would she do? Tell him he was the one? It was absurd.

And besides all of that, he was still married. His wife and son lived in the ancestral home. Even if he were a free man, it's not like Hermione could _be_ with him. She wouldn't consign herself to a life of the mistress, of the other woman. She had much too much pride in herself to do that. She'd rather be single for the rest of her life than be someone's mistress, even if he was her soulmate.

Hermione left the Ministry in a hurry. She had some grocery shopping to take care of in Diagon Alley before returning back home. It was her night to cook dinner, and the house was practically devoid of anything edible.

It was as she was hurrying through the busy, winding streets of Diagon Alley that she spotted him. His bright, light blond hair was a dead giveaway, and while his son wasn't out of the question, he'd always worn his hair much shorter. No, this was the father. But how?

Hermione followed him as discreetly as possible. She hadn't read the _Daily Prophet_ all week, but it was clear she should have. People nodded to him as he passed as if no time had passed. As if he weren't supposed to be locked away in Azkaban for a dozen more years.

He slipped into a side alley, and Hermione followed. She knew she shouldn't. She couldn't entertain this insanity, and yet when the side alley twisted, and he went around the bend, she scurried after him.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy murmured pointing his wand behind her. Hermione whirled around, hesitant to turn her back on him, but too curious to figure out what he'd done to stop her. He'd blocked the alley quite neatly with a wall of bricks. She was trapped.

* * *

Lucius gazed triumphantly down at the girl. It had only taken him a few days to figure out what the silly chit had done. Soulmate magic wasn't illegal, but it was definitely on the darker side of the magic spectrum, mostly because it tended to supersede later wizarding laws. His sentence had been eliminated and his marriage dissolved due to her use of the soulmate spell. And judging by the look on her face, she had no idea.

"How are you out of Azkaban?" Granger asked, her voice trembled.

"This is why you shouldn't meddle with magic you don't understand," he drawled. "Soulmate magic is grey at best, and extraordinarily powerful."

"So what, because we're _soulmates_ ," she practically spat the word, "you get a free pass?"

"Well, and because you rejected the soulmate bond immediately," Lucius murmured. He stepped closer to the young witch. He'd never given her much thought, but she was rather lovely with her flushed cheeks. Her hair was a disaster, of course, but not everyone could be born with hair like his.

"W-What?" she took a wary step backward as Lucius advanced and his lips twitched at her actions.

"I suspect there is a broken mirror somewhere," Lucius said. She'd backed up into the false wall he created, and Lucius reached a gloved hand out to brush a stray curl from her face. She didn't flinch, which frankly surprised him. She almost leaned into the touch of his leather-clad fingertips, her eyes fluttering for a moment. Lucius breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring. There was no doubt, she was his soulmate.

A moment later and he was flung backward. She'd cast an Expelliarmus at him and tore down the faux wall he'd created, fleeing from the alley entirely.

Lucius frowned as he watched her leave. He'd known she'd reject the bond, but he also knew that it would kill her and him both if she never accepted it. He'd have to formulate a plan to ensure that she did accept it. It was why he was released from Azkaban after all.

* * *

Hermione eyed the large package wearily. How had it even arrived on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place? It was still Secret Kept. But there it was, a huge, flat package that Hermione suspected was a mirror, with her name on it in a lovely script. She traced her finger over the writing for a moment. It wasn't familiar, but Hermione knew who it was from. She sighed and with a flick of her wand moved the package up the stairs and into her study.

Once the package was settled against her bookcase, Hermione opened the plain brown paper to find that she wasn't wrong. A lovely, ornate mirror, as large as the broken one three floors up in the attic, stood before her. The frame was jet black but intricately carved. Hermione ran her fingers over the frame, enjoying the beauty of it.

"Hello," a low, seductive voice said, startling Hermione. She jumped back from the mirror to see a smirking Lucius Malfoy staring at her.

"Hello?" Hermione said tentatively.

"I see you've opened my gift," Malfoy said, fingering the head of his cane. Hermione licked her lips as she contemplated those long-fingered hands.

"Is it really you?" Hermione asked, snapping her eyes up to meet his. "Or is this some complicated bit of magic?"

"Oh, I assure you, this is really me. I had been hoping we could have a longer conversation. Are you alone?"

"I'm in my private study," Hermione replied. A moment later, the mirrored surface shimmered like the air on a hot day and Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the mirror and into her study.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked. Her heart beat faster when she got a whiff of his scent. It was bergamot and something uniquely male. He towered over her, and she worried that he was going to punish her in some way for the way she treated him a few weeks ago in Diagon Alley.

"Magic," Malfoy said, his lips quirked up. "Now, shall we finish the discussion we started all those weeks ago?" He stepped forward, and in Hermione's small study, she felt trapped.

"There is nothing to discuss," Hermione muttered, taking a step back and finding herself almost stumbling into her desk. Damn the small rooms at Grimmauld Place.

"Of course, there is," Malfoy murmured, crowding her space by placing a hand on either side of her on the desk behind her. "We can talk about how you are my soulmate. Or about how you used semi-legal mirror magic to figure that out. Or about how your use of somewhat _grey_ magic has freed me from Azkaban and my wife. Or shall we discuss your utter rejection of that soulmate bond?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and jutted out her chin. "Are you attempting to blackmail me?"

Malfoy threw his head back and laughed, it was low and throaty and went right to Hermione's core. Her nipples pebbled beneath her clothes and she wanted to shift her weight to relieve the sudden ache between her thighs, but she wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing how he was affecting her.

He lifted one of those damned gloved hands and traced his fingertips along her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to lean into the featherlight touch. Who knew gloves could be such a turn on?

"Accept the bond," Malfoy said quietly.

Hermione shook her head. She _couldn't_ be soulmates with Lucius Malfoy. She was meant to be with Ron, wasn't she? The longer she stood in his presence though the more comfortable she became. He seemed to exude some sort of calming energy. His fingers slipped down the side of her neck, and Hermione wasn't able to stop herself from tilting her head to allow him better access.

The moment his lips landed on hers, she knew she was done for. It was like nothing she'd ever felt. Fire and heat sizzled under her skin as he ravaged her mouth with his own. Her hands were twisted in his long hair, holding him to her and within a moment he lifted her onto the desk behind her, stepping firmly between her thighs. One still-gloved hand at the nape of her neck, directing the kiss, as the other skimmed its way down her body before resting at her waist.

"Accept the bond," Malfoy repeated, kissing along her jaw.

Hermione panted in response. She couldn't accept the bond. She wouldn't. But, oh Merlin, that thing he was doing with his tongue near her ear was almost enough to get her to say yes. Almost.

Malfoy flicked his fingers and dropped to his knees. It wasn't until his face was buried between Hermione's thighs that she even realized she was naked. He was still entirely dressed and still wearing those damned sexy leather gloves. His mouth was a marvel and had Hermione been the type, she would have written epic poems about the way his mouth moved against her nether lips. Her hands gripped his hair, and for a moment she was sure he was going to make her remove them, but he didn't. He allowed her to push her core into his face. He let her ride out her orgasm against his tongue until she fell back flat against the desk.

"Accept the bond," Malfoy said into her still pulsating sex.

Hermione groaned. "You can't just use sex to get me to agree with you."

She swore she felt his lips turn up in a smirk against her thighs.

"That sounds like a condition of our future relationship," Malfoy drawled.

Hermione leaned up on one elbow and glared at him. "I can't be your soulmate," she said. He stood slowly, towering over her.

Malfoy snorted a sound that surprised Hermione for how inelegant it was. Another flick of his hand and a bright blue cord shot out of Hermione's abdomen bounced off the mirror and ended at Malfoy's still-clothed abdomen. Or maybe it began at Malfoy's abdomen and ended at Hermione's? It was unclear.

"This says differently," Malfoy said, as he thrummed the band of blue. Hermione felt the reverberations through her entire body, and she groaned, closing her eyes at the slightly odd, but definitely delicious sensations it caused.

"What happens if I don't accept the bond," Hermione said after a long moment, opening her eyes to pin Malfoy with a hard stare.

"We die."

The words were said with such finality that Hermione felt them in her bones. He wasn't lying. Somehow she knew that he wasn't lying. Not accepting this bond would only lead to her death. Would she rather be dead than his soulmate? The look in his eyes told her that the knowledge alone might kill him. He was equal parts hopeful and apprehensive, and Hermione wondered how she was so sure she could read him so well. Was this more of the bond?

In the end, it wasn't much of a choice.

"I accept the bond," she said clearly.

Malfoy sighed with relief, then surged to his feet, pressing his lips to hers once more. "I promise you won't want for a thing."

Hermione snorted and pushed away from him. "You know nothing about me if you think I want 'things.'"

"Touché, Miss Granger," Malfoy murmured, running a gloved hand down her arm. She shivered in response.

"You should probably call me Hermione, Lucius," Hermione said, testing his name for the first time on her tongue. She liked how it tasted.

"I like how my name sounds coming from your mouth," Lucius murmured. "Perhaps I can make you scream it this time."

Then his hands were everywhere. It wasn't long before Hermione was screaming his name, this time with his cock pounding into her in time with her shouts.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	20. Trapped

**Written for the Slytherin Cabal's FB group Death By Quill 2019 Round 2 writing challenge. I love this challenge and participate every year! My pairing was Blaise Zabini/Luna Lovegood and the prompt was Dream Magic!**

 **Thank you to AlexandraO for her hard beta work!**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Luna Lovegood**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: He doesn't want to have these dreams. He doesn't want to even be near her. But she traps him anyway.**

* * *

 **Trapped**

* * *

The first time it happened, Blaise Zabini didn't understand. He was asleep, but then suddenly he wasn't? Or perhaps he still was? It didn't make sense to him. But _she_ came to him. In a strange dream-like world that he couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Hello, Blaise," her voice was low and sultry and did things to Blaise that he wasn't sure he liked. A low thrum of desire pulsed in his belly, but Blaise _knew_ , instinctively, that he didn't desire her. Not in real life, and not in this bizarre dreamscape he found himself in now.

He didn't respond to her. If it was a dream, it wouldn't matter, and if it was something more sinister, then not responding could be the only way to get out of it. He tried to jolt himself awake, he even pinched his arm, but nothing happened. He was still in the same dream-space. It was like a wild, overgrown garden. And she was standing before him wearing nothing. Her long blonde hair provided some modesty, but not enough.

That was when he realized he too, was naked. That thought woke him up.

He sat upright, panting as he took in the details of his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, in his flat in London. Daphne was asleep at his side, her breathing reassured him. Like all dreams, the more he thought about it, the more it slipped away. Laying down again, Blaise wrapped an arm around Daphne's middle, burying his face into her back and fell asleep.

By morning, he didn't remember the dream at all.

* * *

 _She smiled at her first success. When she'd stumbled across the book, she hadn't thought to try out any of the spells in it. They seemed ancient, archaic in a way that perhaps wouldn't actually bode well for the caster. But then she'd seen him in the Leaky Cauldron._

 _She remembered him from Hogwarts, and it seemed that in his post-Hogwarts life, he was doing well for himself. The obsession started out like all obsessions do: as an interest. She was interested in his life now. Did he even remember her? Do bullies ever remember their victims?_

* * *

Blaise knew he was dreaming. He _knew_ it. It was instinctual, but damn, it seemed so real, so life-like.

"Who are you?" he asked the woman who smiled at him. He knew her name. He'd always known her name. But when he opened his mouth to ask her why she was doing this, that question came out instead.

She didn't answer him. She never answered him. She just smiled beatifically at him. It made Blaise's skin crawl. That smile. So ominous. It promised danger and other things Blaise never wanted to think about.

He pinched his arm. He needed to wake up. He had to get out of this dream. He had to get away from _her_. There was something _wrong_ with her. He could feel it in his bones, this _wrongness_ that lingered around her.

Pinching didn't help. He felt stuck. Instead, he decided to move away from her. To get out of the overgrown garden and its cloying stench of half-dead flowers and decomposing plant debris. The further he moved away from her, the harder it was. Like walking through molasses.

"What do you want?" he screamed at her as he turned around to face her again.

She wasn't yards and yards from him like he expected her to be. Instead, she was standing right behind him, still smiling that same smile. The one that made his heart skip a beat in total fear. The one that made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

"Blaise," she said, but it was in Daphne's voice. It was eerie, and he reached a hand out to push her away.

And just like that, he was awake. Daphne was on the floor, looking up at him with surprised eyes.

"Shit, Daphne! What happened?" Blaise reached a hand out to pull her up, he moved over, allowing her to crawl into bed next to him.

"What happened? You pushed me out of bed! You were thrashing around, shouting, and when I tried to wake you up, you sat up and pushed my shoulder so hard, I fell out," Daphne fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, Salazar, love. I'm sorry." Blaise went to reach for her, but she shrunk back. He rubbed his hand down his face. "It's these nightmares I've been having. No idea what brought them on."

Daphne softened at that. "Come here," she waved him over, and Blaise laid back down, his head on her chest and was asleep within moments.

He didn't dream anymore that night.

* * *

 _He kept trying to get away, to escape the world she was creating for him, for them. Frankly, it angered her. He wasn't supposed to be getting away. He wasn't supposed to be trying to leave her. She must be doing something wrong for him to be reacting that way._

 _Resolved, she went back to those old books she'd found. They had belonged to her mother, and if there was one person she had always looked up to, it was her mother. Her beautiful, brilliant, dead mother._

* * *

Blaise was running. His pulse thrummed in his veins. He'd always enjoyed running, but soon that enjoyment turned to fear. He opened his eyes. He was running, but it was in that damned overgrown garden. Shapeless plants whipped in a wind that Blaise couldn't feel. The high that running had always given him, now felt like fear. Like a shot of adrenaline straight into his bloodstream.

He was still running, though nothing around him moved. He was running in place? Blaise looked down at his feet to see that they weren't moving at all. He wasn't running. If he wasn't running, why was his heart beating so quickly? He turned around and there _she_ was.

"Hello Blaise," she smiled at him. She stepped closer and reached out a hand, placing it on his chest over his heart. If possible, his heart began beating faster. "Do you feel that?"

"Why?" he gasped. He couldn't catch his breath. His pulse raced, and he panted as though he'd run for miles and wasn't standing completely still.

"Why what?" she asked, placing both hands on his chest. His blood suddenly felt like fire in his veins.

"Why are you doing this?" Blaise choked out. His body felt like he was about to explode. Too much sensation. Not like the Cruciatus, but more like a heart attack. It felt as though there was a live flame licking along the inside of his skin.

"It's an experiment," she smiled up at him. Her smile was _wrong_. It was too big for her face, her teeth too sharp.

Blaise woke screaming.

Daphne had taken to sleeping in the spare bedroom so as not to be disturbed. Blaise's dreams were getting worse. And nothing he found during his waking hours had helped.

This time, instead of going back to sleep he stayed up.

He didn't sleep for close to a week.

* * *

 _Her experiments were going well. He was responding the way she wanted him too. That was until he decided to stop sleeping. That wasn't a deterrent though. She'd seen him rather recently, shopping in Diagon Alley with his wife._

 _A quick tracking spell on his person and she was alerted each time he fell asleep. All she had to wait for was him to reach a REM-cycle, and she could easily slip inside his head._

* * *

Caffeine was only doing so much to get Blaise through his week. It was when he began hallucinating that Daphne insisted he lay down for some rest.

"I'll stay right here with you," Daphne said. "If you start thrashing, I'll wake you up again. I promise."

Blaise believed her. But somehow he also knew that there wasn't anything Daphne would be able to do if he dreamed of _her_ again.

At first, after he laid down, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to sleep. But then, he rolled over onto his side, and he was out. Blissful nothingness and his body slowly relaxed.

Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was in that damned garden. He could smell it. He could feel the sun beating down on his skin. He could hear the tick and whizz of the insects. He didn't know how she was doing it, he only knew that she was.

"Hello Blaise," she said. He still hadn't opened his eyes. He didn't want to believe it was real. Surely, he couldn't actually be hurt in a dream, could he? "You can't avoid me forever, you know." Her tone was light, conversational even. But it still made the hair on the back of Blaise's neck stand up.

"What do you want?" he asked as he finally opened his eyes. She was standing before him, entirely nude, and smiling serenely. For a moment, Blaise felt like they were back in their Hogwarts days. All the _wrongness_ that he'd seen from her over the last months in his dreams had dropped away. She looked like a young girl again.

"You," she said.

The _wrongness_ slapped him in the face at that statement. It was as if he had been wearing a pair of sun shades and they slipped off. It glared at him, and he flinched away from it...from her.

"No," Blaise shook his head. "No, you can't. I won't."

She laughed. A sound that jangled unpleasantly, like two keys being hit next to each other on a piano. It made his blood run cold. And then he knew. This was it.

Blaise never woke again.

Daphne had him installed in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's.

In his head, Blaise screamed himself raw to attempt to get away from _her_ , but nothing he did worked. He was trapped.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	21. The Tattoo

**Written for the Slytherin Cabal's FB group Death By Quill 2019 Round 3 writing challenge. I love this challenge and participate every year! My pairing was Leta Lestrange/Newt Scamander and the prompt was Ink Magic!**

 **Thank you to AlexandraO for her hard beta work and brownlark42 for being the alpha with the mostest!. And finally thanks to the modmins of Slytherin Cabal for running this fest!**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Leta Lestrange/Newt Scamander**

 **Rating: T**

 **Summary: Leta Lestrange makes a discovery and incidentally sets in motion events beyond her control.**

* * *

 **The Tattoo**

* * *

Leta Lestrange did not smile as a child. She couldn't think of a single time that a smile had crossed her lips. Not until she'd met Newt Scamander in their third year, at least. That was the year she had found a small unused broom cupboard that was inexplicably in front of a window with a gorgeous view of the grounds at Hogwarts. It had become her hiding place, and over the course of the year, she spent more and more time in it.

By chance, Newt had found the same one, and one day when Leta had already been occupying the broom cupboard, Newt had barrelled through the door. At first, Leta had been angry. It seemed like she was always angry. But then Newt had grinned at her lopsidedly, sheepishly, his head tilted down and toward the side, and Leta felt herself softening. The rigid composure she held herself in at all times seemed to melt in the presence of this boy. She felt the corners of her mouth quirk up, just slightly and marvelled at the fact that she was actually smiling. It had only taken her thirteen years to do so.

In her fifth year, Leta had found an old tome that probably should have been in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library but had somehow evaded notice. It was all about using magic and imbuing it into various materials. It was a small, side-branch of Alchemy, a subject that wasn't very popular in these modern times at Hogwarts. Leta became fascinated. When she reached the latter half of the book and discovered how to combine magic and ink. The possibilities were endless, and Leta's mind raced as she began working out a way to combine ink and magic so that only Newt could see letters she wrote to him.

It was in her sixth year that she saw an article in the _Daily Prophet_ about how common the practice of tattooing was in the upper classes of the Muggles that an idea began to form in Leta's head.

Tattoos weren't uncommon in the wizarding world, but Leta had never heard for anyone imbuing tattoo ink with magic. And the ideas began to spin out in her head.

Newt had been her constant companion since third year. They were very nearly inseparable, so when she brought up creating a magical tattoo, he was very interested.

"How would it work?" Newt asked.

"Well, I think it would depend on the magic we combine with the ink," Leta pushed a book toward him and tapped the passage she wanted him to read. "Wouldn't some sort of way to communicate over long distances be a handy thing to have?"

"What, instead of an owl?" Newt grinned.

"Yes." Leta gave him her small smile in return. "Instead of an owl, imagine the ink on your skin appearing in whatever message you want? I imagine there would be a character limit, but wouldn't that be a much faster way to correspond with your friends?"

"Perhaps," Newt replied. "But would you need a different tattoo for each friend? Or could multiple people be linked together?"

It hadn't occurred to Leta in that very moment, as her only friend was Newt, but it was a rather brilliant idea. But would it work? And would there need to be a central hub? It was an interesting proposition. She would have to think on it more and maybe do some more research.

Leta had always liked the library at Hogwarts. It was like a Muggle church, large vaulted ceilings with high windows that let in the light. It was always quiet, people spoke in hushed tones as if they were revering the books and the knowledge they held within their spines. Leta took a deep breath every time she walked into the library, savouring the scent of parchment, ink, and book bindings.

Since starting her tattoo project, she had begun spending even more time than usual in the library. It's where Newt found her one day midway through their seventh year. There were four books open on the table before her, and she was scribbling fiercely on a scroll of parchment.

"That doesn't look like our Transfiguration essay," Newt said lightly as he slipped into the chair beside her.

"It's not," Leta hummed quietly. She stopped writing for a moment to consult one of the books.

"Your tattoo project again?"

"I'm really close," Leta said. "What do you think of this?" She slid a piece of parchment over to him. She'd been experimenting with _what_ the tattoo would actually be of. She didn't think she'd want words tattooed into her skin for the rest of her life, but perhaps an animal of some sort.

"Is that a Jarvey?" Newt asked, cocking his head to the side. It was his most endearing quirk. One that always made Leta smile.

She nodded and ducked her own head in a blush. The Jarvey was in direct inspiration from Newt, and she wasn't stupid, she was sure he caught on to that.

"It's brilliant." Newt grinned. "When will you be ready to tattoo me?"

Leta looked up startled. "I didn't know you were offering."

"Who else were you going to test it with?" Newt asked.

Leta frowned. "Fine. Let's meet at the broom cupboard tomorrow. I think I'll have it all figured out by then."

"How do they work?" Newt asked, reading over her shoulder.

Leta laughed under her breath. "The tattoos? The magic? The ink? Which part do you need explained?"

"Well, mostly how you plan to tattoo us, really."

"Oh, that's the easy part. There's a spell for that."

"Really? There's a spell for everything apparently." Newt stood and stretched. Leta did everything she could to not look at the lithe lines of his body.

"Alright, see you there after dinner then?"

Newt nodded and ambled away toward the Magizoology section of the library.

Leta entered the broom cupboard armed with a single scroll, the scrap of parchment with the drawing of the Jarvey, and her wand. She was ready to do this and couldn't wait to begin sending messages to Newt. She could just imagine his face when his tattoo began to prickle in class the next day. Newt was waiting for her and had a slightly queasy look on his face.

"Don't tell me you're nervous." Leta set the scroll and the Jarvey drawing onto a small table they had nicked a few years ago for the space.

"Not nervous, exactly," Newt replied. "I don't like pain much, and well, everything I've ever heard about tattoos is that they are rather painful."

"It'll only be a moment's sting, don't worry. I've practised already."

"On yourself? Can I see?"

Leta rolled up the sleeve of her left arm and showed him the small Jarvey on the inside of her wrist. It wriggled and jumped around when Newt put his finger out to touch it.

"Wow," Newt breathed.

"Neat, huh?" Leta couldn't help but grin at him.

"So how does the communication part work?" Newt asked.

"The only way I could make it work was to have a parent or hub, that would communicate with its children, or spokes, and vice versa. I tried to have it a more open system, but the messages would just garble themselves. This was the only way that seemed to work."

"So yours is the parent?"

Leta nodded. "Yours will be a spoke, but you can still communicate with me. And if we added anyone to the network, then I _think_ you'd also be able to communicate with them too, but that was something else that was difficult to test for." Newt had been rolling up the sleeve of his left arm as she spoke.

"You ready?" Leta asked. Newt nodded, so she picked up the picture of the drawing and arranged it on the inside of Newt's left wrist. She tapped it three times with her wand, then circled it, chanting all the while under her breath. After a moment, the magic that she had put into the ink on the parchment sunk through and into Newt's skin. Newt grunted, and his jaw clenched at the contact, but after a moment it was over, and his body relaxed.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Leta asked as she removed the parchment and looked at the matching Jarvey on Newt's wrist.

"Not at all," Newt breathed and pulled his wrist closer to his face. A soft smile bloomed on his lips as he watched the Jarvey gambol around.

"So how does the message part work?"

"Easy, just tap the Jarvey with your wand, thinking of what you want to convey."

Newt pulled his wand out and tapped the Jarvey. Leta's wrist pinched, and she held it up to see the message. The Jarvey was speaking, and above it, a conversation bubble appeared, like from a Muggle comic book.

 _Leta Lestrange is utterly brilliant_.

Leta grinned at the message and then back up at Newt. "Thank you."

"No, thank you! Really, this is amazing. Send me one now."

Leta tapped her Jarvey and thought her message. Newt hissed and peered at his wrist, his lips twisting into a quick smile at her message.

If Leta had known that this was the last time she and Newt would be together and happy she would have savoured it more. It was only a week after that Newt was expelled from Hogwarts. Had she known what heartache her research into imbuing ink with magic and tattooing it onto people, she never would have left the scroll containing her research in the Hogwarts library for a young Tom Riddle to find. As it was, Leta was dead before Tom Riddle was a year old.

 **~Fin~**


	22. The Garden

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den FB groups Half-Blood Prince Drabble Writing Competition, Round 1! RoseyPoseyAshes was my delightful beta for this piece!**

 **I actually ended up writing 4 (4!) drabbles for this prompt and the lovely RoseyPoseyAshes helped me narrow it down to the one you see below. So... I'll be adding the other 3 written for this same prompt after my Round 2 drabble.**

 **The prompt for this round was Polyjuice Potion and my pairing group was Abraxas Malfoy/Tracey Davis/Narcissa Malfoy. I could use 2 or all 3 of them in my story however I wished.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Narcissa Malfoy/Tracey Davis**

 **Summary** **:** **Narcissa Malfoy was a collector of beautiful things. All beautiful things, including people.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **The Garden**

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy had always been a collector of beautiful things. As the youngest of the infamous Black sisters, she had been surrounded by beauty her entire life and her every whim had been granted as a child. She never wanted for anything and beauty had always drawn Narcissa's eye.

Even when negotiating betrothal contracts, beauty was her focus. It was why she chose Lucius Malfoy over all of the other men who were interested. He was the most beautiful of the bunch. She had even hoped that perhaps that beauty would lead to effeminate ways in Lucius, but sadly, he was all man. Which Narcissa didn't mind, it was just that she preferred a softer touch. A woman's touch. A touch that Lucius couldn't and wouldn't give her. Sure, he was soft, when in the mood to be soft, but his body was hard, his needs were hard.

Tracey Davis, Lucius's latest mistress, had the type of beauty that only came around once in a generation. She was of that to-die-for gorgeousness that left Narcissa breathless and wanting within moments of meeting the girl for the first time. She already knew that Lucius wouldn't share Tracey with her, so Narcissa had to resort to other means in order to collect the girl into her garden of other beautiful things.

Since the Dark Lord's rise to power, Narcissa had a veritable harem of gorgeous half-blood and Mudblood witches at her beck and call. She had rebuilt the carriage house just for them, renaming it _The Garden_ , and enjoyed showing them off at the many parties they hosted for the new regime. Lucius hated them, but only because Narcissa was quite sure he wanted them for himself. It was unlucky for Lucius that Narcissa was a particular favorite of the Dark Lord. He couldn't kill her off. Not yet, anyway. Narcissa also suspected that Lucius was jealous. Lucius didn't share with her, so she refused to share with him, however, if the Dark Lord wanted a taste, she was always accommodating.

Narcissa shook her thoughts from her head and downed the vial of Polyjuice. Her husband would only be gone for a few hours and Narcissa had work to do.

Unlike her, Lucius kept his mistress imprisoned in his room. Warded off from almost everyone, which Narcissa knew would lead to resentment, boredom, and bitterness. A combination ripe for the picking.

"Tracey, darling," Narcissa said in Lucius's deep drawl as she breezed through the door to his suite.

"Master," Tracey replied breathlessly, kneeling quickly before her.

Narcissa kept her grimace of distaste off her face. She hated the way Lucius treated his playthings. The man never learned that with a little indulgence and graciousness, his mistresses would be eating out of his hands. Instead, he chose humiliation and subjugation.

Narcissa sat on the sofa and patted it, willing Tracey to join her. The girl looked shell-shocked and Narcissa pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Come, Tracey."

Tracey obeyed the order and scrambled onto the sofa to curl into Narcissa's side. She stroked the poor, frightened girls arm slowly, allowing her to relax completely.

"Are you afraid here, Tracey?" Narcissa asked.

Tracey shook her head, vehemently no.

"You can be honest," Narcissa said. "In fact, I wish you were. If you are afraid, my wife has an opening in her Garden."

"Really?" Tracey looked up at her with large, blue eyes. Eyes that had Narcissa's heart beating faster. Sweet Salazar, she wanted to kiss the girl, but she knew she needed to hold off. It would be so much sweeter to take her as Narcissa than as Lucius.

"Indeed. I don't often let my mistresses go to my wife, but for you, I could probably make an exception."

"What would Mistress Narcissa expect of me?" Tracey asked, her lip trembling.

Narcissa couldn't help herself, she reached out and brushed her thumb against that lip. Both pleased as Tracey gasped and annoyed that her loathsome husband had the ability to turn the girl on.

"The same things I do, except Narcissa likes a softer touch. Have you ever been with a witch before?"

Tracey shook her head. Narcissa couldn't help the grin that spread across Lucius's face, probably making him look quite demented.

"She would teach you _everything_ you need to know," Narcissa muttered. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the girls lips before she could stop herself. "Why don't you go to her now? She's in her salon."

Tracey looked up, excited to leave the room for the first time in months. "Go on," Narcissa said. "She'll tell you everything you need to know."

Tracey hurried from the room and Narcissa couldn't help the low chuckle that slid from her lips. She quickly downed the Polyjuice antidote that Severus had brewed for her. The moment she was back in her own body, Narcissa flicked her wand, changing into her own clothes and Apparated to her salon to beat Tracey there. Lucius wouldn't know what hit him when she showed up with Tracey on her arm at the ball next week.

"M-Mistress?" Tracey said, knocking on the door.

"Enter," Narcissa said imperiously. Her heart raced as she considered the next steps of her plan. Seducing the girl would be easy enough, but then she had to install her in the Garden without ruffling the petals of the rest of her flowers— _before_ Lucius returned home from his meeting with the Dark Lord.

Tracey looked both scared and excited as she approached Narcissa. She automatically sank to her knees and while it was a sight that filled Narcissa with lust, she had a decidedly different tactic than Lucius did when it came to the way she treated her flowers. Narcissa directed her to sit next to her on the sofa and couldn't stop herself from pressing a kiss to the girl's lips. She positively melted into Narcissa's arms.

Narcissa always did get what she wanted.

 _ **Fin.**_


	23. All of That

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den FB groups Half-Blood Prince Drabble Writing Competition, Round 2! RoseyPoseyAshes was my delightful beta for this piece!**

 **The prompt for this round was Draught of Living Death and my pairing was Terence Higgs/Theodore Nott.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Summary: After all of that, their hard work goes down the drain.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **All of That**

* * *

"He only needs a little, Nott," Higgs whispered. The sound of his voice slithered into my subconscious and I shivered as his breath washed over the sensitive skin of my neck.

"And it won't kill him?" I asked, confirming again that it was safe.

"Of course not." His hand caressed my back. I peered down at my father, hidden behind a pile of rubble. The castle I had called home for the last seven years was a ruin of wreckage in only a few short hours though the fight had moved on from here. The hair on my arms stood on end because spellfire still crackled in the air. "Come on, we haven't much time. The Dark Lord is calling for me."

I took a deep breath and sent a quick prayer off to whichever deity that was listening. Ignoring the way his breath rattled in his chest, I tipped my father's chin back. Too much would surely kill him, but a little would be enough to fool the Aurors and… I squeezed my eyes shut to clear my thoughts and gently slipped a small dribble of potion down my father's throat. His breathing shuddered and slowed. My own heart stopped when his chest refused to rise.

"Shit, I've killed him," I whispered in panic.

"No, you haven't. Wait for it." Higgs sounded calm and I wanted to believe him, but seconds dragged by that felt like hours. Then, finally, his chest rose a fraction.

"See, he's fine. Let's go." Higgs stood, twisting his fingers through mine and pulled me along after him. Higgs had been my rock, my source of comfort in this last year, more important to me than my own father and I couldn't imagine leaving him to face this alone. The further along down the corridor we went the closer the sounds of fighting became. We slipped down the staircases quickly, passing nobody but dead bodies before we found ourselves inside the Great Hall.

"There!" Higgs pointed to the other side of the room and I could see Potter _taunting_ the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord screamed in rage, the sound was inhuman as it wormed its way inside my head.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

" _EXPELLIARMUS_!"

"He's attempting to _disarm_ him?" I breathed in disbelief, gripping Higgs's hand tighter, glad he was there with me.

"Potter is a fool," Higgs hissed.

A moment later, the Dark Lord's dead body hit the floor as Higgs and every other Marked Death Eater fell to the ground on their knees. The sounds of their screaming was like a thousand forks scraping along a thousand ceramic plates and I wasn't the only one with my hands over my ears, attempting to block it out.

* * *

 _Three Months Later_

"Nott, talk to me," Higgs urged from his cell beside mine. I couldn't bring myself talk to him.

I'd just found out they buried my father directly after the battle. In a mass grave with all of the other unclaimed Death Eater bodies. He'd had nobody there to claim him, and I didn't even know whether he was actually dead or just sleeping. I hadn't told anyone what Higgs and I had done. I needed to be proven nothing but a schoolboy set on a terrible path by his terrible father.

Then, as long as they hadn't done something ridiculous, like cremate him on a pyre before burial, I could free my father and we could both go into hiding. That had been the plan all along, regardless of who won, but I hadn't foreseen the Ministry imprisoning anyone and everyone even associated with Death Eaters.

"He'll be fine," Higgs tried. "He'll live. You'll get out of here and you'll both live. You can go to the continen—"

"Shut up," I muttered, speaking for the first time.

"Nott… Theo," Higgs whispered fervently.

I ignored him.

I learned that in prison you had nothing but time. Time to think about who you are and who you have become. Time to consider all the possible outcomes in your life. Time to realize that the man imprisoned next to you might actually be the love of your life, but due to the Mark on his arm, you'll never get a chance to find out. The thought threatened to break me.

"Nott!" a guard shouted down the corridor.

"Here," I replied, sticking my hands through the bars so I could be handcuffed.

"Trial is in fifteen minutes," the guard said, opening the cell and leading me away.

Perhaps I could convince the Wizengamot that Higgs had been pressured into taking the Dark Mark? I heard that Draco Malfoy had gotten off due to coercion. But I knew it wasn't likely. Higgs was the only Death Eater in his family. Who was supposed to have coerced him?

* * *

 _One Year Later_

"You don't have to keep coming back here." He looked haggard as though he were forty-one instead of twenty-one. "Ten years is a long time."

"It is, but not so long that I can't wait."

"I don't deserve you," he whispered. We both ignored the tears that slipped from his eyes. His beautiful green eyes that I had always admired. My chin quivered, but I held back my tears.

"How is your father?" Higgs asked.

"He died. Just after making it to Italy, he was killed by an Auror."

"All of that—"

"For nothing." I nodded.

"I'm sorry," Higgs replied. "The Draught of Living Death was my id—"

"And I freely administered it," I reminded him. "It's no more your fault than mine. It was _his_ fault."

I didn't know if I meant my father, the Dark Lord, or the nameless Auror who had killed him. Suddenly, I was sick of this place. The idea of staying even a moment longer had nausea rolling in my stomach. I stood quickly and nodded to the guard.

"See you in a few months," I said to Higgs, signaling my intent to return. I would always return.

 **Fin.**


	24. Paterfamilias

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den FB groups Half-Blood Prince Drabble Writing Competition, Round 1!**

 **I actually ended up writing 4 (4!) drabbles for this prompt and the lovely RoseyPoseyAshes helped me narrow it down to The Garden, posted a few chapters ago. The one you see below was not submitted to the competition, but I liked it so much, I wanted to post it here.**

 **The prompt for this round was Polyjuice Potion and my pairing group was Abraxas Malfoy/Tracey Davis/Narcissa Malfoy. I could use 2 or all 3 of them in my story however I wished.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Abraxas Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy**

 **Summary: Abraxas misses his wife. So he asks his daughter-in-law to take a more active step in managing the Malfoy household.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **Paterfamilias**

* * *

"Father, this is unconscionable!" Lucius shouted. His face was red with rage and a vein was pulsing in his forehead.

"It's a family matter," Abraxas stated calmly. A sharp contrast to his hot-headed son. "As the _paterfamilias_ , it is my decision."

"It's tantamount to rape," Lucius hissed.

"Only if Narcissa says no," Abraxas grinned like he knew something Lucius did not.

Lucius could barely contain his fury. "She is _my_ wife. She will not consent to this."

"We'll see about that," Abraxas murmured softly as Lucius stormed from his study. "We'll just see about that, son."

* * *

It turned out that while Narcissa wasn't completely sold on the idea, she did want to keep the peace in the house.

"It'll just be for a little while, Lucius," Narcissa assured him. "I'm sure he'll get bored with it quickly."

Lucius looked at her darkly, he wasn't sure of any such thing. He'd walked in on his parents in more embarrassing positions than any pure-blood scion in his year. He'd checked. Nobody had parents as randy as his.

"I cannot allow you to do this," he said bitterly.

"If it makes him happy and it will allow him to let us continue living at the manor, I can't see that I have much of a choice," Narcissa said calmly.

Lucius shook his head. His beautiful, delicate wife had no idea what she was in for. But he could see that he was overruled. "Don't say I didn't warn you," Lucius muttered. "And I better never catch you." He stormed from that room too. This time he left the manor entirely and stayed at the townhouse in London for the rest of the week.

* * *

Narcissa was very apprehensive about Abraxas's plan, however, she _did_ want to keep the peace. And a small part of her wanted to compare the son with the father. Eleanor had been gone for six weeks now, and she couldn't imagine how lonely Abraxas must feel without his dear wife. Anyone could tell how much he loved her. She knew that Lucius loved her too, but there was something about the way that Abraxas had always looked at Eleanor that was missing from Lucius's gaze. She didn't know if it was something that came with time, or if it was because Abraxas loved his wife differently than Lucius loved her.

"Here you are, my dear," Abraxas murmured, handing her a silver goblet. "I've already added the hair. It should be enough for one hour."

Nodding, Narcissa took the goblet and downed the potion as quickly as possible. She shuddered as the effects started to take place. Eleanor had been taller than Narcissa, and her bones ached as they grew several inches in height. When finally, the transformation seemed to be over, she looked Abraxas in the face and was shocked that she didn't have to crane her neck to see him.

"Oh, my love," Abraxas whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He pulled her into his body roughly and slanted his lips over hers. Narcissa was still reeling from the transition and could do nothing but allow him to kiss her. After a long moment, she responded tentatively. Abraxas growled deep in his throat and he began to back her toward the bed. She had requested that they do this in his room. A room she had never been in until then and didn't get much of a look at prior to taking the potion.

Abraxas was an animal. His hands were everywhere, roaming everywhere. She was relieved of her dressing gown within moments and pushed on the bed, entirely nude. Abraxas hurried to follow her, taking off his own dressing gown and covering her body with his. He was fit, bigger than Lucius, broader. She shuddered as his hard length brushed against the inside of her thigh. She was dying to know what his cock looked like and yet entirely too embarrassed by the whole situation to take it in hand as she would have if she were with Lucius.

The encounter was completely overwhelming and left Narcissa wanting more. She'd never come as many times in an hour as she did with Abraxas.

* * *

Abraxas ended up taking her as often as he could that week that Lucius was gone in London. When Narcissa had finally managed to beg him to come home, the encounters with Abraxas slowed to once every few days.

Lucius drank himself stupid each night that Abraxas asked for her. Narcissa didn't know what to do, but suddenly, she couldn't give up Abraxas, or Eleanor. Eleanor's body was so different than hers, the buttons Abraxas pushed were different, and she came so easily. Narcissa wasn't sure if it was the Polyjuice Potion or the different body or if it was just freeing to be someone else. Freeing enough to allow her to relax. Whatever it was, she found herself consumed by Abraxas.

* * *

When her standard monthly pregnancy charm came back positive, Narcissa fainted dead away. A house-elf found her an hour later and revived her. She had been having sex with Lucius, but deep in her bones, she knew that this was Abraxas's baby.

And when she told Abraxas about the pregnancy, he knew too. He smirked at her in triumph and informed her that her services were no longer needed.

Narcissa cried for a week. Lucius was unable to console her, so he moved them out of Malfoy Manor and into the London townhouse fulltime. She didn't have the heart to tell him the child wasn't his. Not after he took such good care of her through the pregnancy. The joy on his face in holding Draco was almost more than she could bear.

 _ **Fin.**_


	25. Naughty

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den FB groups Half-Blood Prince Drabble Writing Competition, Round 1!**

 **I actually ended up writing 4 (4!) drabbles for this prompt and the lovely RoseyPoseyAshes helped me narrow it down to The Garden, posted a few chapters ago. The one you see below was not submitted to the competition, but I liked it so much, I wanted to post it here.**

 **The prompt for this round was Polyjuice Potion and my pairing group was Abraxas Malfoy/Tracey Davis/Narcissa Malfoy. I could use 2 or all 3 of them in my story however I wished.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Abraxas Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy**

 **Summary: Narcissa Malfoy has everything... except the affections she wants from her father-in-law.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **Naughty**

* * *

Abraxas didn't catch it the first time it happened. Looking back, her mannerisms were perfect. She acted exactly like his beloved Eleanor, it wasn't until they were in the middle of the act itself that something began to feel off. The brush of magic against his, normally so comforting and arousing, jangled differently. He brushed it off as nothing. He had other things on his mind as his wife dug her hands in his hair, holding him to her core. He aimed to please and listened to her cries, her breathy moans, and the way they both went up in pitch and volume the closer she got to her climax.

He'd fallen asleep immediately after and didn't notice when she left the bed.

It was the third time, that he finally caught on to what was happening. This time the magic didn't just jangle unpleasantly against his, it jarred violently.

Abraxas rolled quickly to his wand and had it held to the imposter's neck within seconds.

"Who are you?" he growled.

"Abraxas, dear, it's me Eleanor," she, he, whoever it was attempted. Abraxas wasn't fooled though. He lashed out with his magic, sending a spear of it into her, and when it didn't bounce back lovingly as Eleanor's always did, he knew.

"We can wait until the Polyjuice Potion wears off, but you won't live much longer after that."

The imposter laughed. "You won't kill me Abraxas, you can't," she fairly purred.

"Who are you?" he asked again, digging the wand more firmly into her throat.

"Narcissa," she hissed.

"Why?" Abraxas asked, he was still naked, but at the sound of his daughter-in-law's name, his flagging cock began to fill with blood again.

"Because you wouldn't look at me twice as Narcissa," she pouted. "I tried everything, sexy lingerie, accidentally falling into you, and you were the perfect gentleman. It was infuriating. I'm not used to being thwarted."

Abraxas sighed, removing his wand from her neck. He dropped his head and found himself looking at his wife's nipples. He did so love them. Dropping a kiss to one, Narcissa cried out. Then quicker than Abraxas realized, she flipped them over and straddled his lap.

"See, you want me," Narcissa murmured as she fondled his cock, stroking it up and down. "No use hiding it from me."

"It's Eleanor's body," Abraxas reminded her, though he made no effort to remove her from his person. She wasn't entirely wrong.

"Mmm, this time," Narcissa murmured as she sank down on his cock, wrapping him up in her tight, wet heat. Abraxas groaned and gripped her hips tightly as she began to bounce. Her tits jiggled heavenly and Abraxas wanted to bury his face in them.

She made quick work of him, coming in moments and forcing his orgasm along the way.

"Next time, Daddy," she smirked as she slid off of him and flounced out of the room.

Abraxas flopped back onto the bed and groaned. He'd been ignoring Narcissa's blatant overtures for months now. And now there would be no getting rid of his naughty daughter-in-law. He only hoped his wife never found out.

 _ **Fin.**_


	26. The Wife

**A/N: Written for Draco's Den FB groups Half-Blood Prince Drabble Writing Competition, Round 1!**

 **I actually ended up writing 4 (4!) drabbles for this prompt and the lovely RoseyPoseyAshes helped me narrow it down to The Garden, posted a few chapters ago. The one you see below was not submitted to the competition, but I liked it so much, I wanted to post it here.**

 **The prompt for this round was Polyjuice Potion and my pairing group was Abraxas Malfoy/Tracey Davis/Narcissa Malfoy. I could use 2 or all 3 of them in my story however I wished.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, drop me a line in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Narcissa Malfoy/Tracey Davis**

 **Summary: Narcissa Malfoy isn't used to not getting what she wants. She'll do anything to make her wishes come true.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **The Wife**

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy had always been greedy. As the youngest of the infamous Black sisters, her every whim had been granted as a child. Candy and toys as a young child; clothes and jewelry as she grew older had always been lavishly gifted to her. She never wanted for anything. And if she did, the moment she asked for it, it was hers.

When she married Lucius, he replaced her father in the role of Chief Enabler. Lucius showered her with more gifts than her parents ever had. She was quite spoilt and knew it. But she didn't care. It was her right as a daughter of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and as the wife and matriarch of the Malfoy family. The Black's may have been Noble and Ancient, but the Malfoy's had power. Money. Influence. All things that Narcissa only cared about because they enabled her to act as she pleased.

All this to say, that when she found something she wanted and couldn't have, she was not pleased. She threw tantrums and eventually whoever was the keeper of what she wanted, gave up and gave it to her.

So when she found herself wanting Draco's new wife, she was in quite a predicament. Lucius was in Azkaban for at least another ten years and while Draco attempted to fill his role as Chief Enabler, she knew that asking for his wife was not going to happen. What was worse, she had been vehemently opposed to Draco's marriage. Tracey Davis was a half-blood, and while Narcissa was thankful she wasn't a Mudblood, a half-blood wasn't much better in her book. The only thing the girl had going for her was that she was to-die-for gorgeous. If Narcissa had Tracey's looks when she was Tracey's age—or ever—then Narcissa surely would have wanted for nothing ever in her life. Not that she had wanted for much now, but still. It irked her to want something and be unable to possess it.

There was a small voice in the back of her mind that told her using Polyjuice Potion to become her son was inappropriate. Not only inappropriate but perhaps downright sick. If anyone found out about it, surely they would have her committed to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. But Narcissa overrode that voice and downed the vial of Polyjuice.

Being in Draco's body felt strange. This was just a practice run. She had an hour to accomplish her goal, and she wanted it to go smoothly. Which meant she needed to practice. She refused to look in the mirror, knowing that would be the straw that broke the hippogryph's back and set to work, figuring out her son's body.

* * *

The next time Draco went out with his friends, Narcissa pounced. She invited Tracey into her salon and proceeded to get Draco's wife just drunk enough to lose her inhibitions. Once that was done, Narcissa left to take the Polyjuice. Tracey may be beautiful, but she wasn't smart. It took very little convincing in Draco's body to get Tracey to give up the goods.

"What happens if your mother walks in?" Tracey asked breathlessly as Narcissa peeled her dress from her shoulders.

"Don't worry about her," Narcissa said, in Draco's deep voice. The low chuckle she produced was decidedly creepy. Next time this happened, it would be Narcissa as herself undressing the delectable Tracey.

 _ **Fin.**_


	27. Liminal

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven FB group's Hermione's Personal Library Drabble Competition 2019, Round 1! Thanks to the admins of that group for always running fests and competitions. They are a ton of work and you should go check out the rest of the works in this collection.**

 **If you liked this or hated it, please let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Salazar Slytherin**

 **Summary: Salazar Slytherin didn't mean to appear in Hermione Granger's bed, but after the first time it happened he began working to make it permanent.**

 **Rating: M**

* * *

 **Liminal**

* * *

 _2002_

"No, please!" Hermione muttered in her sleep, tossing her. Her back arched as her dream self was tortured.

"Shhh, I've got you, love," he murmured. He hadn't meant to end up here, and the words coming out of his mouth were decidedly foreign-sounding to him, but they must have meant something to the witch. She turned to him, her eyes bleary with tears and buried her face into his naked chest. Salazar cringed hearing her loud sobs, wondering what had happened to her.

* * *

 _2005_

Hermione stormed from the flat she shared with Ron. She was through with him and if she had to live at the Leaky Cauldron until she found a new flat, well she would. Reporters be damned. She was done catering to Ron. Done catering to everyone. It was time for Hermione Granger to be free.

When she woke in the middle of the night, she thought it was a dream.

"I'm here, love," a husky, male voice murmured into her ear. Hermione shivered at the sound of it. The warm hand that traveled beneath her sleep shirt and along the skin of her abdomen felt sinfully delightful.

Hermione reached for her wand and flicking it to set the lamps to light, she gasped. She scrambled out of bed and away from the dark-haired man who was naked in her bed.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Salazar Slytherin, at your service," he bowed his head.

"Salazar Slytherin has been dead for a thousand years. Whoever you are, it isn't him."

He winked at her. "I assure you I am he. I am experimenting with time-travel, and yet somehow get continuously drawn to you, witch."

"What?" Hermione's jaw dropped just as he began to fade from view. "The fuck was that about?"

She resolved to do some research in the morning. One thing was certain, he was definitely _not_ a ghost. He had been entirely too warm and solid.

* * *

 _2006_

Hermione held back her tears as she hurried through the atrium. It was for the best really, she loathed that job. She swiped the tears and dropped the box holding her belongings in the process.

"Let me help," a deep voice said. Hermione closed her eyes, she knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

"What are you doing here?"

Salazar Slytherin bent to pick up her belongings and shoved them into the box. He stood, holding the box and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Didn't we discuss this last time? Where to?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and directed him toward the fireplace. Was Floo travel invented a thousand years ago? She felt like it was something she had known at one time, but now the answer was eluding her. Dropping a handful of Floo powder at her feet she tugged Salazar into the fireplace with her and shouted her flat address.

"That's quite fascinating. How does it work?" Salazar asked as they stumbled into her sitting room.

"We need to have a serious talk. I can't have a thousand-year-old dead guy show up every time something goes wrong in my life."

Salazar shrugged. "I can't help when I appear…" he trailed off as he started to fade, "or when I'll leave again," he said as he disappeared.

* * *

 _2010_

Hermione grunted and closed her eyes, her labor pains were overwhelming, but she knew she could do this. She _had_ to do this. She groaned loudly as another contraction hit. Why had she decided to do this on her own again?

She gasped and held her rock-hard stomach as she tried to call for a Healer but she couldn't get the words out before another painful contraction ripped through her stomach.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Salazar's voice was welcomed for once.

"Call a Healer," Hermione grunted as the urge to push began. Darting out of the room, Salazar shouted down the hallway before hurrying back to where Hermione was crouched on the hospital bed. He gripped her hand and pushed at just the right spot on her back that made the pains feel marginally better.

Hours later, Hermione awoke to a soft melody and was surprised to see Salazar still in her hospital room.

"That's beautiful," Hermione murmured.

"You're awake," Salazar brightened and crossed the room in a few strides, depositing Rose into Hermione's arms. "She's beautiful. You did well."

"Thank you for being here," Hermione replied, grasping his hand in thanks. He faded from view and for the first time, Hermione wished he would stay.

* * *

 _2013_

"ROSE!" Hermione shouted, frantically looking for her child. She had turned her back for a moment and her daughter vanished. Hurrying through the crowd, and pushing past people, she looked everywhere for her daughter's curly-brown head. "ROSE!"

"Hermione!" Relief swamped her as she recognized Salazar's voice. Turning on the spot she ran to where the dark-haired man was standing, holding Rose's hand. Hermione dropped to her knees and pulled her daughter close.

"Merlin, thank you, Sal," Hermione muttered, catching his eye. He grinned and Hermione allowed him to help her to her feet.

"She's beautiful, your daughter, much like her mother."

Hermione blushed at his compliment and ducked her head. "Think you'll stay around for a bit?"

"I've been working on the formula," he replied. "I'm hoping to stay for a few days."

Hermione beat back the hope that tried to unfurl at his words. As ridiculous as it sounded, she had come to miss him.

"Well, we shouldn't waste it," she said brightly. "Have you ever been to a zoo?"

"What's a zoo?"

* * *

 _2021_

Twenty years and the formula still wasn't right, not for time-traveling, but it was perfect for ensuring he stayed in the future with his witch.

"Sal!" Rose shouted, waving him over.

"Sal," Hermione nodded. "Everything is going well, why are you here?"

"For you, witch," Sal replied, snaking his arm around her waist, Hermione leaned her head against his chest. Everything finally felt right. He felt settled. He knew his fellow Founders wouldn't miss him.

 **Fin.**


	28. Finding Home

**A/N: Many, many, many thanks to the fabulous The Mourning Madam for hosting such a fun and unique fest! This was such a great experience! I also want to thank my beta WasserMama who helped at the last minute to get this thing into ship-shape!**

 **My fairytale was inspired by Fair Maria Wood which you can find on the fairytalez website.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff where you can see the pretty manip I made for this story.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione Granger finds herself homeless on the streets of London. A stranger takes a chance on her, which is all she needs to get her life back on track.**

* * *

 **Finding Home**

* * *

Hermione had to get out of there. The antiseptic scent of the hospital had invaded her childhood home and the moment the machines stopped beeping steadily and started their continuous alarms, she knew it was over. In all fairness, she knew it was over three weeks ago when the machines and hospital bed made their debut and her mum came home for good. At least she'd had plenty of time to prepare, not that it made it any easier. _Her mum was dead_. _And at only forty-eight_. Hermione's heart felt like it was in her throat. Her mum was her rock. Her protector. Her savior. Without her, she had to flee.

"Baby," her dad started the moment the nurses from the hospice had shut the machines off and announced her mother's time of death.

"No," Hermione said. Her voice was sharp and cold, but she couldn't afford to waver now. The nurses glanced between father and daughter and decided to leave the room. Hermione wished they would stay. She could have used the buffer between her and Dad.

"Baby, please. It'll be alright. Come here," Richard Granger implored.

Hermione glared at him in disgust. She knew what her dad was. She knew what her mum protected her from. But she also knew what her mum protected him from too. She wasn't going to take up that position in his life. She had her own life to lead.

She rose from her chair, placing one last kiss on her mum's forehead. Knowing she wouldn't be back for the funeral was enough to make a sob escape her throat. Hermione choked a second one back just as her dad's hands landed heavy on her shoulders.

"No!" she shouted and shrugged out of his grip, practically sprinting across their small sitting room. She ran up the stairs quickly, grabbing her knapsack. She had two changes of clothes, her laptop, all the money she could manage to steal without her dad being aware of it, and her mother's engagement ring. It had been her grandmother's before hers and Hermione was unwilling to part with it. The money wasn't much, a couple of thousand pounds, not enough, but it would do for now. She still didn't know exactly where she was going, but she knew that she had to go. He wouldn't leave it alone. She wouldn't fall victim to him like her mum did. Like countless others had. She was breaking the cycle right now.

Dashing down the stairs, Hermione skidded to a stop as the front door opened and the director of the funeral home was welcomed inside. Her dad gave her one final look over his shoulder as he ushered the director into the sitting room. Hermione made her escape.

She was out the door and down the street in the pouring rain to the bus stop faster than her dad could have followed even if he had been available to do so. She hoped by changing buses a couple of times she could put some distance between them. She had to put some distance between them. London would be preferable. Granger was a common enough name that she was sure she could disappear into the millions of people who lived in the City. The only issue would be finding a place to stay and a job.

University had ended a month ago, with Hermione was two classes away from receiving her degree in sociology. Even with the money she'd taken from her dad, she wouldn't have enough to cover the final two classes. She'd have to get a job to get the money.

The bus pulled up and Hermione scrambled aboard and out of the rain. She'd take this one almost into London itself until she had to switch to a different one. Then once in London proper, she'd switch a few different times. She had an area in mind, if not an actual destination. The Hogsmeade section of London housed Hogwarts University, where Hermione had spent her undergrad. There was cheap housing there, she knew she could afford. But even more important, plenty of jobs in the restaurants and cafes that catered to the university students. It would just take her a bit to get there. The downside would be that her dad would be sure to check the University. Which was why Hermione planned to take at least one semester off. Maybe even two, depending on how rabid her dad seemed when he started looking for her.

Four hours later, exhausted, still soaking wet, Hermione alighted the seventh bus she'd been on that day in front of the Hog's Head. It was notorious on campus, but Hermione was there for a different reason. They were always hiring. She'd done some waitressing in the last few years. She figured they'd at least take her on as a cocktail waitress if nothing else.

It was late by the time she arrived in Hogsmeade, the sun, which hadn't shone most of the day, had set already. The moment Hermione's feet hit the pavement outside of the club, she could feel the bass of the music from inside deep in her sternum. It was going to be mind-bogglingly loud going in there, but she knew she would feel better if she went to bed knowing she had a job. Although, she didn't have a place to sleep yet either. She'd get a room at one of the myriad of hotels and motels that dotted Hogsmeade. There would be an opening somewhere, she hoped.

The bouncer gave her a once-over, before nodding her through the door. There was a cover to be paid and Hermione hated parting with some of her precious pounds to pay it, but she needed the job. She gave the woman guarding the till her ten pounds.

"I'd like to speak with the manager," Hermione shouted to the woman. She looked Hermione up and down, and nodded, holding up a finger indicating Hermione should wait.

Hermione shuffled to the side as a few more patrons entered the establishment. They were men, boys really, from the University she was sure. They laughed obnoxiously, shoving each other in the shoulder as the bounded past Hermione. She grimaced at them.

"You'll have to get used to _them_ if you want to work here," the girl shouted over the music to Hermione. Hermione schooled her features and nodded her head.

A few moments later, the best-looking man Hermione had ever seen walked out of the depths of the club and to the hostess stand. He had dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes, and a day's stubble on his cheeks that brought his chiseled jaw to the forefront. He was dressed in a dapper navy suit that Hermione knew he didn't pick off the rack anywhere.

"I'm Tom Riddle," he announced, holding out his hand for Hermione. She placed her smaller hand in his larger one, noting how warm it was. "Come with me."

He turned on his heel and led her through the club to a hallway behind the stage. They walked through a heavy door and the moment it closed, the sound of the music decreased almost entirely. Just the sound of the bass thumping could be heard. The hallway was lined with doors that had names on them. Names of the dancers on stage, Hermione was sure. The stage was blocked from where she had stood to wait at the hostess stand and she had studiously avoided looking at it as they walked by. At the end of the hallway was a door that was locked by a keycode. Tom entered a code and pushed the door open, inviting Hermione into the plush office behind.

"Have a seat," Tom indicated the low couch before the desk. He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of the chair behind the desk before sitting.

"Thanks for seeing me," Hermione started. "I know it's probably not the ideal time. But I was hoping to find a job here."

"I only have openings for dancers," Tom replied, eyeing her up and down. "Can you dance?"

Hermione shrugged. "I took competitive dance until I was sixteen."

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-four," Hermione said. "Hermione Granger. I was a student at Hogwarts, but I've had some personal stuff come up and I'm taking a few semesters off."

"Any of that personal stuff going to interfere with a job here? I can't have your ex-boyfriend coming in to beat up patrons," Tom warned.

Hermione shook her head. "My mum had cancer. She died."

Tom tsked. "I'm sorry to hear that. How soon can you start, Hermione?" He pushed a box of tissues forward and Hermione grabbed one thankfully. She hadn't meant to start crying.

"Tomorrow," Hermione suggested, finally looking up from her hands to Tom. He was peering at her rather intently and it made Hermione shiver.

"Be here at noon. We'll discuss your pay and everything else then. This type of work isn't for everyone. If you try it and find you don't like it, there won't be any hard feelings."

Hermione nodded and thanked him. She hadn't expected him to escort her back through the club and out to the front door.

"You have someplace to go?" Tom asked, peering at her closely. Hermione hoped it was too dark to see her blush and she nodded. She didn't, of course, but he was willing to offer her a job, she wasn't going to take more from him than that.

* * *

Hermione did find a place to stay, an extended-hotel type thing that she could afford for a few weeks, until she could scrape together enough money for the down payment for a flat. Or find a roommate. Judging by the cost of flats in this part of the city, she would need at least one and probably two.

She was well into her second week at the club, dancing the odd hours as the new girl. She worked during the day most often, the noon to four shift, which meant she didn't make great money, but occasionally a lunch group would come in and tip fairly well.

"Tom, can I speak with you for a moment?" Hermione asked one afternoon. She had just finished her shift and the club was starting to pick up, especially because it was a Friday.

He nodded tightly, and Hermione wondered if he was upset about something. He seemed so cool and unruffled most of the time, but there were times when his cool exterior cracked.

"I was just wondering if I could pick up a few extra shifts. I—"

"No," Tom cut her off without elaborating.

"It's just I'm saving for—"

"I don't care, Granger, I've got more dancers than I really need as it is. If someone quits, we can talk then."

"What about as a waitress. I've experie—"

"I can't have my dancers also waitressing. The patrons would harass you endlessly."

"Please, can you recons—"

"I said no," he snapped suddenly. Hermione straightened and nodded.

"Alright. See you tomorrow," she muttered and left. Four hour shifts weren't nearly long enough, it was time to start thinking about getting another job. The problem was, most jobs wanted an address. If she tried to work at another club, it was likely she'd be put on new girl hours again and her shifts would overlap. She had never realized not having a permanent address could hinder her so much. She couldn't get another job without it, but she couldn't save for an apartment with the little she was making from her new job.

* * *

Hermione looked at the bashed-in door of her extended stay-hotel. Her jaw was clenched in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"Real sorry 'bout that, miss. This is the third room this month this has happened to," the hotel manager said. "'S'hard when the doors are open air like this."

Hermione nodded tightly but didn't say anything.

"If we could just get a report of what's missing?" the police officer who had accompanied the hotel manager asked.

"Um, right," Hermione nodded, clearing her throat. She stepped past the broken door and into the room itself. It wasn't large, but she could see the closet door with the safe was torn off its hinges and the safe inside missing entirely. "The safe is gone."

"Anything of particular note in the safe?"

"Just every pound I had," Hermione muttered. She was thankful at least that she still had her mother's ring. She wore it on a chain around her neck.

"That's tough luck, miss," the hotel manager said. "We've got a room down the hall and we can give you one night free, but you're paid through the week."

Hermione nodded again, she felt like a bobblehead with how much nodding she'd been doing, but it didn't matter. With her shitty shift schedule at the club, there was no way she'd have enough money to pay for another week at the hotel. She was well and truly fucked.

* * *

Two weeks later, Hermione had every possession she owned in her knapsack and was huddled into the corner of an abandoned store a few blocks from the Hog's Head. She didn't want to be too near the club, in case someone recognized her, but with her money problems, she couldn't afford to waste it either. A few blocks should give her enough of a buffer. It had so far. She hadn't yet set out a paper cup, asking for money, but it was a near thing. Thank God, the club had showers. She couldn't spend hours on end there, but she worked more days than not.

Living on the street wasn't a permanent solution, it couldn't be, but until Hermione figured something else out, it's all she had. She probably could have gone to Tom, but frankly, she was too ashamed.

* * *

A few blocks weren't enough, Hermione found out a few days later. She kept recognizing patrons and had to turn her head. The paper cup still hadn't made an appearance and she'd been kicked out of more doorways than she had thought possible. She was used to seeing indigent people on the streets of London, but not usually near Hogsmeade.

"Hey, do I know you?" someone said from above her. Hermione frantically shook her head and ducked her face lower. Tom would surely fire her if some patron from the club found out she was living on the street.

"Yeah, I do," the voice was closer. "I can help."

Hermione bit her lip, she could only imagine what sort of 'help' a man who knew her from a strip club would offer.

"I'm fine," she muttered, refusing to look up.

"You don't look fine. Listen, I'm not a creep—"

"—says every creep," Hermione whispered.

He laughed and Hermione sighed. He did have a nice laugh. "Alright, well if I can't convince you of that, perhaps I can take you for a meal?"

Hermione shook her head as her stomach growled. Finally, the man went away and Hermione peeked her head up to look at him. His hair was so blond it was almost white. She thought maybe she recognized him, but couldn't be sure.

Twenty minutes later, he was back and placed a sandwich on the sidewalk in front of her. He didn't say anything else and walked away.

Hermione sighed as she ate the sandwich. He probably was a nice person, but she'd been burned a lot in the past and it didn't hurt to be too careful.

* * *

A few weeks later, her hours were bumped from lunchtime, to just before the evening rush. It wasn't much better, but on Fridays and Saturdays, she was busier. Actually making money that she could hopefully use to get back into the extended stay. Although, by her calculations, she'd have to be working two weeks straight before she'd saved enough for even a week at the extended stay.

It didn't matter, Hermione was just thankful to be making more money. Since the clientele was slightly better, Hermione had begun borrowing wigs from the other girls for her sets. It took quite a bit to get all of her hair into a skull cap and they hurt. So badly, in fact, she finally just had one of the other girls cut it all off.

"You sure about this, hun?" Hannah asked, fingering Hermione's long, heavy locks. "It's so beautiful."

"I'm trying to have a real career after this," Hermione said sadly. "That will never happen if I'm recognized. The world is not kind to former strippers."

"It's not kind to current strippers either," Hannah said with a chuckle. "Alright then. Let's give you a pixie. I didn't graduate hair school, but it was a near thing."

Hannah set to work and the more she cut, the lighter Hermione's head felt. She didn't cry at seeing herself with short hair, but maybe one tear escaped. She didn't want Hannah to think she hated it. She definitely didn't _hate_ it, but she also didn't feel like she looked anything like herself.

"It brings out your eyes, makes them look bigger," Hannah said kindly. "And look at those cheekbones! Hiding behind that mess!"

Hermione smiled, her tears clearing at Hannah's kind words. "You don't have an opening for a roommate, do you?"

"'Fraid not," Hannah said shaking her head. "I just signed a year-long lease with a couple of the other girls."

Hermione smiled and nodded, but her heart twisted. She should have tried harder to make friends here. Maybe then she wouldn't still be living on the street a month and a half later. The only consolation was that she was able to save even more money because that blond stranger dropped her a sandwich almost every day. Stranger was probably the wrong term to use, considering she now recognized him.

He was in the club at least three times a week during her shift. She didn't know for sure, but he seemed to have some sort of business with Tom. They spoke with each other frequently and it only increased Hermione's need to use wigs during her performance. She definitely did not want to be recognized by the blond man or anyone else.

That night, she wore a red-haired wig Hannah had just gotten in. It hung all the way to Hermione's waist, and with her shorter hair, the skull cap was less tight, but the weight of the wig made up for it. She still left the stage the final time that evening with a massive headache.

Hermione was rubbing the spot between her eyes and grimacing as she made her way back to her dressing room when she almost ran right into someone coming the other way.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, startled, and she stepped back to see it was the blond-haired man and almost panicked. But no way he would recognize her with her stage makeup and her wig. At least, she had to hope so. If he found out she was sleeping on the street, he'd tell Tom, then Tom might fire her.

"It's alright," he said congenially, sending a heart-stopping grin her way. "You alright? Looks like you're in pain."

"Fine, just a long night," Hermione said with a quick smile and hurried past him, trying to keep her head down. Her heart was in her throat as she slipped inside her dressing room. Pansy, who had the shift after her, was already there getting ready.

"Just going to change, then I'll get out of your hair," Hermione said quickly. Pansy was a little prickly.

"Whatever," Pansy muttered and continued doing her makeup. Hermione sighed, glad that Pansy wasn't planning to pick a fight and slipped off her wig. She took a makeup wipe out of her kit and hurriedly removed most of her stage makeup. She wouldn't be able to shower until she came back tomorrow, so she needed to be 'street ready'. Which meant, in order to not be mistaken for a sex worker, she had to not look like one.

Despite all of the hardships Hermione was facing, one good thing came out of this. She was quickly forming the idea for a thesis for her undergraduate degree. Which wouldn't happen until she finished her last semester, but getting her degree and moving on to her Ph D. had always been part of the plan. Her area of interest had always focused on feminist sociology and geography, which were fairly diverse, but they intersected in so many ways that Hermione was finding all sorts of parallels when compared to her own position in life. It was really too bad that her laptop was dead and she wasn't able to use it when on the streets. Instead, she hand wrote all of her ideas and worked on her laptop once a week when she indulged in a cup of coffee so she could sit in a cafe and translate all of her handwritten notes.

Hermione changed into her street clothes and tucked her laptop, her wages, and everything else of value into her locker, locking it tightly and pulled a stocking cap over her hair. She tried to leave everything she could at the club, at least her locker locked and it was unlikely Pansy or whichever new girl got put into their dressing room for the early shift would be able to open it. Especially if they didn't know all of her life's belongings were tucked away in there.

"Have a good night," Hermione murmured on her way out of the dressing room, not expecting an answer from Pansy. Her head still hurt, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She shouldered her backpack that was filled with her blankets and pushed her way out of the back door of the club.

She'd found a dead-end ally a few streets away that had become her main sleeping spot. Several other indigents, many of them women, also had staked out this ally. Making it safer for Hermione for sleeping. During the day, she found someplace that had more foot traffic, and thus a higher chance of getting some food. She still hadn't gotten a paper cup for begging. That didn't sit right with her, considering she had a job, but if someone dropped off their leftovers, then she would gladly take those. And besides, the blond man came by every day. Like he looked for her specifically before dropping her off a sandwich. Always a different one, from a different shop, but all of them good.

That day, something different happened though. Someone sat down next to her, and Hermione startled to see it was the blond man.

"You don't beg. Why?" he asked, sliding her the sandwich. Hermione opened it and took a bite.

"I have a job," Hermione replied. "Seems disingenuous to beg when I have a job that pays me."

"So you're homeless by choice?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "No, obviously. I'm homeless because I've run on some tough times. But there are others who have it worse than me. Who don't have jobs. So I feel bad taking out of their pockets."

"Your job must not pay you that well."

"It's getting better, but it's expensive to get into an extended stay hotel."

"Why not crash with friends?"

Hermione snorted. "I don't have any friends that I trust."

"You trust me."

"How do you figure?"

"I could have poisoned you a hundred times over, and yet, you always eat the sandwich I give you."

Hermione nodded and finished her sandwich. "You're right, I guess I do trust you not to poison me. Although, if that sandwich," she indicated the wrapper she was crumpling, "was poisoned, then you've trained me like one of Pavlov's dogs, haven't you?"

The man laughed. "That hasn't been my intention. And I didn't poison you. But if you do trust me, I wonder if you'd allow me to offer you a place to live?"

"Do you still think you know me from somewhere?" Hermione asked with a frown. "I'm not going to lie. Winter is fast approaching and I'm worried I won't survive it."

"You do look familiar," he shrugged, "but I can't place it. I'm pretty good with names, so maybe you just have a common face."

Hermione laughed again. "Well, with a comment like that I can be sure you aren't trying to get into my knickers."

The blond man reddened and chuckled in his embarrassment. "Draco Malfoy," he said, thrusting his hand at her.

Hermione eyed him warily. "Hermione Granger," she replied. "I would possibly consider your offer of a place to stay, based on a few conditions."

"Name them."

Hermione appreciated that he didn't waffle on the fact that she had conditions. It made her trust in him only increase.

"I want my own room. And a key to the flat. I won't be beholden to you letting me in when I keep non-traditional hours," Hermione said. "I can pay you rent, probably not market rate, but I can start with £100 a month and we can go from there."

"I wouldn't charge you," Draco argued.

"Then no," Hermione said. "I may have fallen on hard times, but I won't burden you."

Draco frowned at her for a long moment, then directed his gaze back to the street. "Can you truly afford £100 pounds a month?"

Hermione considered. She made £100 on the weekends in tips alone. It would be easy to afford that, while also saving up for school. She could probably even afford a little more.

"I could probably afford more, actually," she admitted, "but I'm also trying to save up for school. I only have one semester left before graduation."

"What's your job?" Draco asked, turning to look at her again. Hermione shook her head.

"Another condition, I'm not going to tell you about my job. Just know that it's not illegal. What would you charge a roommate to move in with you?" Hermione wasn't going to let Draco's charity go to waste. If they came to an agreement, she planned to keep careful track of how much she owed him so she could pay him back.

"I wouldn't take one in," Draco said, "I'm rather more well-off than most."

"But if you had to? What would the market rate at your flat be?"

"Probably £1,000 per month."

Hermione whistled, that was more than she made in a month. "Do we have a deal? My shift starts soon."

"Sure, we have a deal. When are you off work? I can show you where my apartment is then."

Hermione eyed him and pursed her lips. "I'll meet you right here at nine tonight."

"Deal," Draco grinned, sticking his hand out again. Hermione held her breath as she shook his hand. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but Draco seemed like a decent enough sort. If his flat was disgusting or too far away, or she got any sort of feeling at all, well, that's why she'd picked up that pocket knife a few months ago.

* * *

Living with Draco was almost a dream. When he said he was well off, Hermione imagined having his own flat to himself. She hadn't imagined he'd have a three-bedroom penthouse at the swankiest address in Hogsmeade. He'd cleared the bedroom he used as a library for her, even going so far as to purchase a bed. Hermione added it to her list of what she owed him.

They were almost three months into the arrangement when disaster struck. Hermione wasn't stupid. At some point, Draco was going to figure out that she worked at his buddy Tom's club, but she'd hoped that it would be further along into their friendship.

She was in the hallway, making her way back to her dressing room, glad she only had one more set left. She was extra tired today for some reason and just wanted to go home. She'd saved enough to go back for her final semester at school and her first week had just ended. Getting back into the swing of school and a job had definitely taken its toll on Hermione this week. Which was why she had taken off the wig and the skull cap, to ease her headache before her next set.

"Hermione?"

She looked up, caught like a deer in the headlights to see Draco standing just outside of Tom's office. He had a confused look on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. It was quite obvious, and she didn't want to listen to a lecture from him. She shouldered past him and opened the door to her dressing room, but before she could close it, he followed her inside.

"You can't be in here, Draco," Hermione said quietly, placing the wig on its stand and massaging her temples.

"The fuck I can, I own half this place," Draco spat.

"Then what is the problem?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't know you were a whore." Hermione's heart thumped hard in her chest, but she gritted her teeth and turned to face him.

"Get out." She felt calmer than she was, her hands were shaking and a cold sweat had sprung up. She was going to be homeless again. And going to school. This was the worst time for Draco to have found out about this. Somehow, she knew he was going to cause a stink.

"No! Tell me why you're here. Why are you working for someone like _Riddle_ ," Draco spat the name out like it had a bad taste.

"Why are you in business with him? Frankly, it's none of your business."

"It's my business when you're lying to me!"

"I _never_ lied to you, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione shouted. "I _knew_ you were going to have a problem with this, you just seemed the type, you know? Get out. Please. I have one more set. Then I'll have my shit gone by morning."

"Fuck," Draco muttered, turning his back on her. His hand landed heavily on the doorknob. "You don't have to leave."

Hermione laughed. "As if staying there would be tenable after what you think of me. Don't fucking worry your pretty, over-privileged head about it. I'll be out by morning."

Draco didn't say anything more before slinking out the door. Hermione sat heavily in her makeup chair and placed her head in her hands. What in the hell was she going to do now?

"Is there a problem here, Granger?" Tom asked from behind her. Hermione turned to find him leaning against the doorway.

She wiped her eyes and shook her head. "No problems, Tom."

"You were living with Malfoy, yes?"

"It's not a problem," Hermione said again.

"See that it doesn't become one," Tom warned before leaving. He didn't bother to close the door after himself. Hermione grumbled under her breath as she got up to close it. She had a few more minutes before her set. Barely enough time to calm herself and get back into the right mindset to dance. She needed as many tips as she could get now.

* * *

"Damnit, Hermione! Don't leave," Draco said, holding her wrist, stopping her hand from reaching for the front door. She had everything she owned in the knapsack on her back.

"You don't want to live with a whore," Hermione said. "So I'll make sure that you don't."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, alright! I shouldn't have called you that. It was inexcusable. Riddle is—"

"I don't care," Hermione said. She was calm, but she couldn't help the tears that leaked from her eyes. "I don't care about whatever deal you have with Riddle. That's my job, and right now, I need to find a place to live so that I can finish my last semester in school."

"You have a place to live," Draco insisted. "Please, just stay here. Actually, you stay here, and I'll move out."

"What?" Hermione asked, turning to face him fully.

"Yes, I'll move into a hotel or something. You stay here. You deserve this more than I do."

"Now, you're being ridiculous," Hermione said. "It's your flat. You should stay. It's quite clear where your feelings lie."

Draco's laugh was bitter then. "You have no idea where my feelings lie."

Hermione's heart seemed to stop in her chest. Draco swayed closer to her, his eyes bouncing from hers down to her lips. She took a small step back.

"Don't do something we'll regret later," Hermione whispered.

Draco exhaled sharply and strode past her, slamming the door after him. Hermione stood in the entryway of his flat, unsure of what to do now.

When he hadn't returned for three days, Hermione assumed he went ahead and moved into a hotel. It was stupid, really, but Hermione still didn't have enough saved to get her own flat, especially having just paid for the last of her tuition. She decided to stay until he came back.

* * *

By the time Hermione was finishing her final semester and getting ready for graduation, she'd moved up to the premier spot at the Hog's Head. She only worked three nights a week, which afforded her plenty of time to begin applying for doctoral fellowships.

Draco had still not shown his face, though Hermione kept 'paying' him, but slipping her rent into an envelope and placing it in a drawer in his desk. She missed him, after all this time, but she wasn't going to try and track him down. He clearly had his own issues to work through.

After she submitted the last of her applications for her doctoral fellowships, Hermione decided it was time to track Draco down. Her advisor had told her she was basically a shoo-in for the one at Hogwarts University. And even if she didn't get the Hogwarts one, they all offered housing. She'd even have enough money to quit her job at the Hog's Head, but now, Hermione quite liked being a dancer. It was freeing, being on the stage, dancing her heart out. Her body had never been in better shape and she enjoyed being able to use it well.

Summoning up the last of her courage, Hermione knocked on Tom's office door.

"Come in," he muttered.

Hermione flashed him a smile as she slipped inside and closed the door.

"What can I do for you?" Tom asked, distracted, not looking up from the computer in front of him.

"I was hoping you could help me track down Draco Malfoy," Hermione said.

That stopped Tom. He looked up at her and lifted one eyebrow. "And what do you want with Malfoy?"

"Well, I'm living in his house, but he hasn't been back in months. I'm applying for my doctoral fellowships and I've been told I'm on the fast track for one of them. Which means I'll have my housing sorted. I just wanted to thank him and let him know."

"I can do that for you," Tom said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn't the first time that Hermione found him attractive, but she shook her head. He was her boss and there were some lines that she would never cross.

"I want to tell him myself," Hermione insisted. "I never got a phone number for him, and well…"

She bit her lip, looking down at her feet.

Tom sighed, "Fine. I'll let him know you'd like to talk to him. Anything else? Not going to quit with this doctoral bullshit are you?"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "I actually really like it here and well, I may have used my experience here to write my undergraduate thesis. And now that I'm going into my Ph D. program, I'll want to stay on."

"Using this place as your own little research lab, is that it? Should I be charging you for that?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Um, I mean, I guess—"

"Chill, Granger," Tom said, chuckling. "I won't charge you as long as you keep being the best girl on Thursday nights."

"Of course," Hermione said, relieved and slumping slightly against the door. "Thanks again, Tom, for helping me find Draco."

Tom waved her away and refocused back on his computer, which Hermione took as her cue to leave, so she did.

* * *

Hermione nervously twisted the napkin in her lap. She had received a text from an unknown number, claiming to be Draco and asking to meet her here. But he was late and now she was worried he wasn't coming at all. She'd checked her mail on her way here and there was quite a thick envelope from Hogwarts University sitting in her bag that she was also dying to open, but she wanted to talk to Draco about it first.

"Sorry, I'm late," a posh voice said above her and Hermione looked up to see Draco sliding into the booth across from her. Her breath caught, she had forgotten how good looking he was in the months since she'd last seen him.

"It's alright," Hermione said quietly. She felt her face redden as he looked her over and she dropped her eyes to the table between them.

"Are you still dancing?" Draco asked. His voice was utterly neutral, and Hermione flicked her gaze up to gauge his reaction, but his face was blank.

"I am," Hermione replied, her shoulders tensing, waiting for him to get angry. But he didn't, he just nodded tightly.

"Here," Hermione said. She shoved a copy of her undergraduate thesis across the table. "I put most of what I owed you on your desk at the flat. I'll get the rest of it to you soon. I'm hoping to be moved out by the start of the school year."

"What is this? _Body Economy and the Modern Woman: An intersectional feminist ethnographic study on the role of ecdysiasts in both the liberation and demoralization of low-income women in the United Kingdom_ ," Draco read the title of her thesis and looked up. His blank face was replaced by one of confusion.

"I told you I only had one more semester left," Hermione said. "I majored in Feminist Geography and Sociology. I'm just waiting for Hogwarts University to get back to me about a doctoral fellowship."

"So you're a stripper because it helped you write your thesis?" Draco asked, thumbing through the thick stack before him.

Hermione laughed. "I'm a stripper because I like it and it pays well. It's truly a side benefit that it helped with my undergrad thesis. I didn't even come up with the idea for it until I'd been working in the club for close to six months."

"Alright," Draco said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry I stormed out, that wasn't… I…"

"It's alright," Hermione said. "It honestly might have been for the best. I wasn't ready to be in a relationship then. I'm not sure I'm ready, even now."

"I understand," Draco replied. He reached across the table and took Hermione's hand in his. "Still I need to apologize. My behavior was atrocious. Please forgive me."

Hermione smiled, squeezing his hand. "Forgiven."

* * *

Meeting Draco for lunch set a pattern, they met most days for lunch, when Hermione was able to get away. She was given the fellowship at Hogwarts University and was back living in University housing like she had been her first two years during undergrad. The only difference was that it was a house she shared with a few other doctoral candidates. It was a huge step-down from Draco's gorgeous flat, but the low-level anxiety Hermione always felt while living there had disappeared entirely upon moving into University housing. She finally felt like she belonged like she wasn't mooching off of anyone, and it was completely freeing.

"Sorry, I'm late!" Hermione said as she slid into the chair across from Draco. They were at their favorite campus coffee shop because Hermione wasn't going to be able to make lunch later. She set an envelope of money onto the table. Draco picked it up and tucked it away. They never spoke about her debt, and Hermione wasn't even sure he bothered opening the envelopes, but each one she gave him helped to lighten the weight that seemed ever-present against her chest.

"So how are classes going?" Draco asked, pushing the drink he'd ordered for her across the table. She grabbed it gratefully and began telling a story her advisor had related earlier in the week.

"Do I get to see you tonight?" Draco asked, after she'd fallen quiet.

Hermione looked up surprised. She knew that Draco had feelings for her beyond friendship, and if she was truthful with herself, she had them too. But after their extremely rocky start, Draco seemed determined to continue their friendship and nothing more. So she had buried her feelings, knowing nothing good could come of them.

"You want to see me tonight?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. "A mate of mine has opened a new restaurant over in Diagon Alley. I thought maybe we could go check it out?"

Diagon Alley was a very posh part of London and Hermione had only been there a few times in her life.

"Is this a date?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Do you want it to be?" His voice was practically a whisper and he couldn't quite meet her gaze. Hermione found his bashfulness adorable.

She nodded, biting her lips together. "Yes. I think I would."

Draco brightened instantly, beaming at her. "Pick you up at eight then."

"It's a date," Hermione smirked.

* * *

"Sorry, love," Draco murmured into Hermione's ear, startling her. She'd been sitting at their table in their coffee shop on campus, waiting for him.

"God, don't scare me like that!" Hermione said, laughing, even as she held a hand over her rapidly beating heart. She and Draco had been dating for six months, and they were probably the best six months of Hermione's life. She finally had time to miss her mum, and Jesus, how she missed her. Draco was helping with that, having lost his own mother at a young age too.

Hermione slid Draco's coffee over to him and watched as he sipped it. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A pumpkin spice latte? Am I a basic white girl now?"

She giggle-snorted at his antics. He'd perfected the valley-girl accent and it never failed to make her laugh. "Nah, but I know how much you like pumpkin spice. It's the last one," she said, sliding an envelope across the table.

Draco ignored her last comment, pocketing the envelope. "But you aren't supposed to tell anyone that," Draco muttered, talking about the coffee, not the money. Hermione knew it was an act though and slid her foot up his calf.

"I missed you," Draco said, changing the topic.

"I know. Only a few more days of exams, though then the semester will be over and I'll have more free time."

"You know, it would be easier if you moved back in," Draco said, sending her his best pair of puppy dog eyes. It wasn't the first time he suggested it, but each time Hermione shook her head. She felt so free, living on her own, not beholden to anyone, that she was loathed to give that up.

"I'm not ready for that," Hermione said quietly.

"Well, what good am I to you now? You don't live with me, you don't owe me anything," he pouted. Hermione was surprised he brought up the money but relieved that he at least seemed to be joking about it.

"Here," she pulled a stack of paper out of her bag. "You can proofread my last term paper if you'd like."

"Really? You sure you want me doing that?" Draco asked, fingering the pile, and reading the title. "More about being a dancer, eh?"

"It's an interesting topic," Hermione shrugged. She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "If you want, you can be my boyfriend."

Draco started and looked up at her. His grey eyes searching hers and Hermione offered him a small smile.

"Thought I already was," Draco said cockily. "But if you're offering officially, I'll accept."

"Good," Hermione said. She leaned over and placed a kiss against his lips. He sighed into her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her close as Hermione lost herself in his kiss.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	29. Storyteller

**A/N: Many, thanks to the mods for hosting such a fun fest! Written for the HP Daddy Fest.**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff where you can see the pretty manip I made for this story.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione asks Severus to tell her a story.**

* * *

 **Storyteller**

* * *

The first time she called him Daddy during sex, Severus hadn't thought anything about it. They did have two toddlers running around after all. And if she didn't call him Daddy during the day, then the twins wouldn't call him Daddy. He assumed it was a slip of the tongue. He didn't tell her how it made him feel. How it made his cock harder or his breathing faster. Surely, it was just a slip of the tongue. He pretended not to notice the way her cunt slicked when he called her pet moments later. They were adventurous in the bedroom, but not that adventurous. They barely touched any sort of role-playing.

It was the second time that stopped him in his tracks. "Hermione?" he asked, holding his breath.

"Daddy," she whined, clutching at his back. Her internal muscles gripped his cock so tightly that Severus was sure he was seeing stars.

"I—"

"I like it," Hermione said seriously. "I want it."

Severus groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder. "We're going to talk about this later, pet," he muttered against her neck. Then he dragged his tongue up the side of her neck and bit her earlobe.

"Yes, Daddy!" she cried, clutching her legs around his hips tighter. Severus set to work, bringing his pet all the pleasure she deserved.

The following day, the twins were sent to play with the Potter children and he and Hermione sat down to iron out the details. Hermione didn't want to age regress. She just wanted nurturement and to call him Daddy when they were intimate. Severus was relieved. He knew that if Hermione wanted to play schoolgirl to his professor or some such fantasy that he would have trouble. He was glad that's not what she wanted. And truly, it was no hardship nurturing and caring for Hermione this way. She did so much for him, for their family and children. It was the least he could do.

When she introduced storytime to him, Severus was particularly interested. He knew that Hermione liked his voice. Anyway, he could use it to his advantage, he would.

"Like a fairytale?" Severus asked, his brow furrowed.

Hermione chuckled. "Sure. Although, I was hoping for something a bit more... _adult_ than the rehashing of a Hans Christian Andersen tale."

"More like Brothers Grimm?" Severus smirked.

"More like John Colleton," Hermione breathed.

"I think I can handle that," Severus murmured as he loosened the collar of her shirt. "But you, my dear pet, are overdressed." He indicated the slinky little robe she wore and licked his lips when she dropped it revealing she had nothing on beneath it.

"Will you read me a story, Daddy?" Hermione asked. She batted her eyes at him and Severus flicked his hand at the bed. She scrambled to obey, lying in the center, above the blankets with her legs pressed together, completely nude. She looked delicious and just innocent enough that Severus wanted to corrupt her. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he tried to decide on a story. Should he make one up? Adapt a well-known fairytale? He wasn't sure he could corrupt a fairytale they might repeat to their children, so he decided to make one up instead. Although, he wasn't opposed to stealing bits and pieces from well-known works.

 _One day, there was a young woman who was lost in the woods._

His eyes darkened as Hermione's hand slipped up her side and she began trailing her fingers down her neck. He watched as her fingers trailed between her breasts.

 _She was on her way to her grandmother's house but lost her way. The trail branched and she'd taken a wrong turn._

Hermione grinned at him as her hand twitched toward a nipple. Severus tsked her and she obeyed by keeping her hand off of her naughty bits.

"Did someone save her, Daddy?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"In a way," Severus said. He'd finally undressed and settled onto the bed, straddling her closed legs. He ran a hand up her thigh and was pleased when she sighed and relaxed, ever so slightly.

 _She felt someone watching her, the deeper into the woods she walked. At first, she was hopeful—_

"This isn't going to be a scary story, is it, Daddy?" Hermione interrupted. Severus narrowed his eyes and pinched one of her nipples in retaliation. Hermione grunted and arched her back at the sudden shock of pain and pleasure.

"It's not. Stop interrupting," Severus said. Hermione nodded, her eyes wide, and Severus soothed the hurt with his hand, cupping her breast entirely.

 _At first, she was hopeful but when she called out, 'Hello, who's there?' and nobody answered, she began to get nervous. Not scared, exactly. She didn't think whoever was watching her was malicious._

Severus was now thumbing her nipple and Hermione was sighing and writhing between his legs. Her legs rubbed against the underside of his cock and Severus paused for a long moment to watch her.

"Go on, Daddy."

 _In fact, the man watching her wasn't evil or malicious. He'd just never seen such a beautiful woman that deep in the woods. He wanted to ensure she reached her destination safely. It wasn't until she turned around in despair and began heading in the opposite direction, that he made his presence known._

Severus slid his free hand up and over her hip, cupping her other breast. Hermione's back arched further as he pinched both nipples.

"Da—Daddy," she breathed, rubbing her thighs together to increase the friction there.

 _The girl jumped when the brawny man came out of the woods toward her. 'Are you alright, miss?' he asked._

 _She shook her head and her lip trembled as she tried to swallow back her tears. The man couldn't help but notice how her bosom heaved as she finally broke down. He gathered her close and held her tightly as she cried away her nerves._

Severus watched as Hermione's own breasts rose and fell with her breathing. Her eyes were closed and her nipples were hard beneath his hands.

' _I can help you find your way,' the man said to her. 'What's your name?'. The girl looked up at him with her big brown eyes. The tears were starting to clear and he was struck by just how beautiful she looked._

' _Helen,' she whispered. 'Thank you for helping me. Maybe there is something I could do to return the favor?' she asked breathlessly. That's when she noticed her breasts were pushed to the man's chest and she liked how it felt._

Severus leaned down and licked between Hermione's breasts, his breath cooling the area as he spoke once more.

 _The man didn't want to take advantage, but he couldn't believe what Helen was offering. 'I'll just help you find your way,' he said._

' _Tell me your name?' Helen asked. 'Stephen,' the man replied as he led her along the path back toward the little village._

Severus stopped for a long moment until Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him. "Daddy?"

He smirked at her and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Just making sure you hadn't fallen asleep, pet," he said when he pulled away from her delectable lips.

"I want to know what happens between Helen and Stephen. How does she thank him for helping her?"

His lips twitched as he began weaving his story once more.

' _My grandmother's cottage is this way,' Helen said, pulling Stephen in the other direction. 'That's where I need to go.' Stephen acquiesced and began leading her. He knew the forest quite well and was sure he knew of the small cottage that belonged to her grandmother._

' _I do want to thank you,' Helen said again after a long moment. 'Please tell me how.'_

 _Stephen groaned and his cock hardened in his trousers at her words._

At this, Severus let his own hard cock brush between Hermione's legs, the head just hitting the junction between her thighs. Hermione sighed and opened her legs as far as she could, trapped as they were between Severus's legs.

"What happened next, Daddy?" Hermione asked her hands on Severus's thighs.

' _Please, Stephen,' Helen begged, stopping in front of him. 'I'll do anything.'_

 _It was more than Stephen could bear. 'We can stop anytime you want to,' he told her. 'But there is one thing you could do for me.' He snagged her hand and pressed it against his length beneath his trousers._

Severus did the same with Hermione's hand and she wrapped her hand around his cock, tugging on it.

' _Oh, my,' Helen said as she pressed her hand to Stephen's cock. 'It's so large. Can I see it?' Her innocent question had Stephen pulsing in her hand as he scrambled to pull his trousers down and free his rod of steel_.

Hermione snorted. "Rod of steel? Really, Severus."

"Don't ruin the scene, pet," Severus snapped.

"Sorry," Hermione replied, contritely. Her lips twitched once more, and Severus tweaked her nipples until she was writhing once more. "Yes, Daddy," she hissed.

' _What do I do with it?' Helen asked once Stephen had pulled his hard cock from his trousers. Stephen showed her how to stroke him._

Severus wrapped his hand around Hermione's at this point and together they stroked along his cock. It felt so good he lost the train of the story for a moment.

"Daddy?" Hermione asked.

' _Is that all I can do with it?' Helen asked after a few moments._

' _No,' Stephen replied. 'I can show you lots of ways to play with it. Are you sure you're comfortable with this?'_

 _Helen nodded enthusiastically. She may be a little innocent, but a delicious fire was burning between her legs and she ached to be touched._

' _Yes, but, maybe you could touch me too?' she asked. Stephen's breath caught and he asked her where she would like to be touched. Helen pushed the front of her dress down to show off her magnificent tits and pulled Stephen's hand to one._

' _Here,' she said breathlessly as Stephen tweaked her nipple._

Severus bent forward once more and engulfed one of Hermione's nipples into his mouth. She cried out and arched her back hard as he sucked.

"Daddy!"

He released the nipple with a pop and smirked at her when she pouted up at him.

 _Helen loved how Stephen's hands felt on her tits and when Stephen bent down to lick one, she almost fell to the ground. Her knees completely weak. Stephen seeing the conundrum, led Helen off the path a ways until they came to a small clearing._

' _What other ways can I play with it?' Helen asked, her hand still wrapped around Stephen's cock._

' _You can lick it,' Stephen suggested. Helen's eyes widened and Stephen helped her to her knees. The first lick almost had Stephen coming, but he had a lot more plans for Helen before the day was over._

Severus moved up the bed, still straddling Hermione until he was kneeling over her chest. He pushed her breasts together and slid his hard cock between them, the head of his cock hitting her chin. Hermione tilted her head down and swallowed the head on the next pass. It felt amazing and he stopped speaking entirely for a few moments.

 _After a while, Stephen pushed Helen away. He didn't want to take the chance and come in her mouth._

' _Stephen, I'm so achy,' Helen whispered and Stephen helped her to lie flat, pulling her dress from her entirely as he did so. She was truly gorgeous. A large set of tits on top of a small waist and hips that flared out just right. Stephen delved a hand between her legs and found her absolutely soaking wet._

' _I can help with the ache, love,' Stephen said._

As he spoke, Severus moved down the bed, laying on his side and thrusting his hand between Hermione's legs at the same time Stephen in his story did. Hermione cried out and Severus was pleased to feel her as wet as he imagined Helen was. He slid two fingers inside his beloved wife, his thumb circling her clit in a steady motion.

' _Stephen!' Helen cried out as she_ _ **came**_ _from Stephen's attentions to her quim._

The moment Severus said the word _came_ Hermione fell apart beneath him. They'd worked hard on tying her pleasure to his words and a warm, pleased feeling filled his chest at seeing her climax on command.

' _Helen,' Stephen murmured, pressing hot kisses along her neck and jaw._

' _You've made me feel so good, Stephen. Can I help you feel good too?' Helen asked. Stephen rolled on top of Helen, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist as his heavy cock slid along her folds._

' _Are you sure?' Stephen asked, he was straining to take her, to make her his, but he needed to be sure it's what she wanted._

' _Yes! Please! Stephen!' Helen shouted._

Severus mimicked Stephen's actions and the moment he finished speaking, he surged forward into Hermione.

"Fuck, Daddy!" Hermione grunted at the intrusion. "What happens next?"

Severus chuckled and dropped his head to Hermione's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. His thrusts were short and shallow, a slow, steady pace, so he could keep the threat of the story.

 _Stephen surged forward, burying himself in Helen's exquisite body. They both cried out at the intrusion and Helen's back arched, her legs tightening as Stephen moved within her._

' _You feel so good, Stephen,' Helen murmured into his ear. 'I want to do this always with you.'_

 _Stephen groaned at her sweet words and his hips snapped faster. He rolled them, suddenly, still buried inside Helen and helped her to sit up on top of him. He gripped her hips, teaching her how to ride him and appreciated the view as her breasts bounced._

Again, Severus mimicked Stephen's actions and Hermione was riding him with abandon. He gritted his teeth and tried to follow the thread of the story, but he should have known that he wasn't going to be able to in this position. Sliding a hand down her hip, he began thumbing her clit, willing her to reach her peak so he could stop reciting potions ingredients in his head and reach his own.

"DADDY!" Hermione shattered above him, her hips rolling as she rode out her orgasm. Severus slammed up into her a few more times, before he came too, spurting his seed deep inside her. She collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her.

"What happens next?"

Severus chuckled and finished the story.

 _Stephen guided Helen to another orgasm as she bounced on top of him. Helen screamed out Stephen's name when she came and then collapsed onto his chest. Stephen sighed, rolling them once more as he hadn't yet had the pleasure of coming. Helen was boneless beneath him as he fucked her. Helen's words came back to him. He wanted to do this with her always and vowed to find a way._

 _When he was finished, he lay beside Helen and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She seemed to fit perfectly against him._

' _I meant what I said,' Helen murmured after a long moment. 'I want to do this with you again and again.'_

 _Stephen's arms tightened. 'I want that too. But I—'_

' _Don't worry about the logistics of it all just yet. Let's just enjoy being in each other's arms for now.'_

 _Stephen dropped his head to her shoulder, planting kisses there. He found he would follow any of Helen's directions._

"That's a good story," Hermione said with a sigh after he finished. "Although, not much of a fairytale."

Severus snorted. "You try thinking of a story while also attempting to seduce your wife."

"Hmm, maybe next time I will," Hermione turned in his arms and grinned at him. "Love you, Daddy."

Severus pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss, humming contentedly.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	30. Extinction Burst

**A/N: Many, many, many thanks to the fabulous modmins at Hermione's Haven for hosting such a fun fest!** **Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-A-Prompt. My prompts were Vampires, Time Travel, and Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin. Enjoy!**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: Hermione is called to the future and she can't refuse the call.**

* * *

 **Extinction Burst**

* * *

" _Your presence is essential. We'll be lost without you. Wizardkind will be lost without you_. _Beginning of October 2023 should do it."_

The message cut off abruptly. Hermione Granger frowned looking at the small crystal ball in her hand.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Remus Lupin asked. "From the future?" He leaned against the doorway of her office, arms crossed over his chest.

Hermione nodded absently, still studying the crystal ball that had just appeared on her desk moments ago. "Yes, how odd."

"What exactly is going on then?" Remus's voice was full of concern and while Hermione had the urge to soothe him, the mystery of her future self asking for her past self's help was just too much to bear.

Hermione shook her head, finally looking up at him. "I don't know. But it's clear they need help. We should go."

"Hermione! We can't!" Remus exploded forward, throwing up his arms and stalking across the room. "You've just figured out how to travel forward in time. We need to run loads more tests. And besides, there's Teddy to think about."

Hermione stood from behind her desk and approached Remus on the other side. "I know, darling," she said, placing her hands on his chest and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "So I'll understand if you don't want to come with me."

She breezed by him and left her office. Heading toward the laboratory where most of their employees worked. She ignored Remus's muttered curse behind her. She knew it was selfish, but how selfish could it be if the future her was asking for help?

"I'm obviously not letting you go by yourself," Remus said gruffly from behind her, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist just before the door of the lab. He pressed a kiss against the side of her neck and Hermione let the tension ease from her body as she relaxed into his arms.

"What about Teddy?" Hermione asked, spinning around to face him. She looped her arms around his neck as he leaned down and kissed her, his beard scruffed her cheek and Hermione's arms tightened around him.

"We'll leave him at Harry and Ginny's. Like we always do. And hope that both of your selves know what the bloody hell you're doing."

"You know we don't," Hermione said with a small laugh. "Gryffindor luck will hopefully hold for us. Although, I have to assume that if the future me sent the message back to this time, then the future me knows what's capable with the forward-turning Time-Turners."

"What if the future you forgot when exactly it started working properly?" Remus asked.

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really think that's likely?"

"I guess not. Alright, let's plan for a mission."

Hermione offered him a quick grin before reaching up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his once more. She whirled around and entered the lab quickly.

"Alright, people. It's the big one. Calibrate the forward-turning Time-Turner for fifteen years, three months and four days. Callie, get me and Remus our packs. Davie make sure there are plenty of funds in the emergency Gringotts account. Christina get the emergency portkeys ready. We'll fine tune the Time-Turner when we're closer to leaving. Hopefully within the next six to twelve," Hermione barked moving through the lab quickly. Her employees scurried around her as she strode over to the prototype Time-Turner.

"We'll need a backward going Time-Turner too," Hermione murmured to Maud. "One capable of getting us back in time fifteen or so years."

"Right here, boss," Maud said, lifting one with care from the glass case in front of her. "Are you sure fifteen years into the future is a good idea? We haven't run the usual battery of tests yet."

"It'll have to be. There's been an emergency and we've been called," Hermione replied, taking the backward Time-Turner and slipping the chain over her head.

"By who?" Callie asked, setting two identical packs on the table. They were similar to Muggle hikers backpacks, but tricked out in usual Hermione Granger style. Undetectable extension charms layered with permanent featherweight charms. They essentially each doubled as a small cottage on the inside.

"Me," Hermione replied.

Remus stepped into the room then, taking in the chaos around him. "Teddy's off."

"Great," Hermione replied without turning around. "Thanks for taking care of it. Sorry, I didn't get to say goodbye."

Remus shrugged. "You know how he is lately. Doesn't even want to say goodbye to me," he said with a small laugh. "How long until we're ready."

"Within the next seven hours or so," Maud replied. "We need to run the calculations through the ACM."

The ACM was an Arithmancy model she worked into a muggle laptop. It took a few charms and a lot of muggle computer programming to get it right, but it was their most useful tool. Even if it sometimes took hours to run through all of the possibilities of an arithmancy equation.

"Great, get it worked up and entered," Hermione responded.

* * *

It was close to midnight before they were ready. The ACM printouts were plastered all over the lab as Maud fine tuned the forward-turning Time-Turner.

"You calculated for the full moon?" Hermione asked as she and Remus donned their packs.

"Yes. The full moon was at the end of September. As long as you aren't there an entire month, you should be solid. If you are, fresh ingredients for Wolfsbanes are in both your packs along with all the proper brewing utensils," Davie responded.

"Done," Maud said, lifting the bright-white Time-Turner from its cradle gingerly. She handed it to Hermione who slipped the long chain over both her and Remus's heads.

"Catch you on the flip side," Hermione said, grinning as she pulled the pin and the lab and their surroundings whirled away.

When the spinning stopped, the lab was quiet, broken down and clearly disused.

"What do you think happened here?"

Hermione shook her head. "Let's go topside, see if we can get the lay of the land."

They climbed the stairs out of the underground compound into the dead of the night. The night air was cool, as it often was in early October, and it smelled of crunched leaves and a hint of winter. The area surrounding the compound looked as abandoned as the interior had.

"What on earth do you think happened?"

The moment the question was out of his mouth the fluttering of wings was heard.

"What the…" Hermione began before being accosted by a being. It stank of rotting flesh and musty dirt as it's hands gripped her shoulders tightly. Spinning in a tight circle she slipped out of its grasp and pulled her wand. Flicking it a huge bluebell flame lit up the night and revealed that they were surrounded by dozens of vampires.

"Fucking vampires!?" Remus shouted, stunning as many as he could. He broke out his battle magic like it was an old cloak. The fighting stance he took kicked Hermione into action and she mirrored his movements, keeping her back to his.

"Think we'll get any backup?" Hermione asked. She began conjuring garlic and chucking it at any vampire who came close enough.

"Not bloody likely," Remus grunted.

"Fireball it is," Hermione replied. "Cover me."

Remus nodded and Hermione cast a shield charm while she dug in her pack. She had created a few specialty items over the years, one of them she had dubbed Fireball. It was essentially an ever-burning torch. When hit with the right combination of spells, it became a massive fireball.

"Incoming!" Hermione shouted as she tossed the lit Fireball stick up into the air and blasted it with her special combination of spells. A woosh sounded and a dome of fire settled itself around Hermione and Remus. It was thirty feet across and moved when Hermione moved.

"How far, you think?" Remus asked as he kept a watchful eye on the circle, ensuring no brave vampires attempted to get through the blaze.

"Unclear. Until the screaming stops, I guess."

The screaming was getting nigh on unbearable before a jet of water came shooting through the dome.

"Hold! We're friendly!" A voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's came through. Hermione and Remus held their wands aloft, at the ready, but lowered them as older versions of themselves stepped through the dome.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you'd send, well you, me, whoever," the older Hermione said with a grin. Hermione stared, she had a few more grey hairs than the current Hermione, but still, she looked mostly the same.

"This is weird," Remus said.

"Very," older Remus replied with a low chuckle. The older Remus looked much the same, although his hair was almost completely white. She thought he looked rather handsome like that and grinned up at her own Remus.

"So, vampires?" Hermione asked, gesturing outside the fire dome that was still blazing.

"Yes, vampires. Scourge of the earth if you ask me," older Hermione said. "The virus mutated somehow and the island has been practically overrun with them."

"When you say the island…" Remus asked.

"The entire British island," older Remus replied. "Bit of a mess, really."

"Bit?" Hermione asked. "How long ago did the virus mutate? I thought vampires were rather antisocial creatures, there were so many of them."

"About a year and a half ago. They're hungry is what they are," older Hermione said. "We either need to stop the virus or cure it, or it'll overrun the entire world."

"Britains been exiled for now. Told us to figure out our own bloody problems. And we're close, but we need some backup. Vampires have a sense for blood the way werewolves have a sense of smell," older Remus chuckled.

"They keep finding your hideaway," Hermione guessed.

"Exactly." Older Hermione grinned again and Hermione couldn't help but grin back.

"So what can we do?" Remus asked.

"I was hoping you could help me keep them away from our most recent hidey-hole. Vampires and werewolves don't get along too well, as I'm sure you know. We can let the ladies figure out the virus and how to effectively neutralize it or kill them," older Remus said.

"Kill them?" Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"It may be necessary," older Hermione said with a sigh. "I've been attempting a way to neutralize the virus, but nothing has worked thus far." She ran a hand through her messy hair and looked tired.

"Alright, let's get to it. Faster we figure this out, the faster we can get back to Teddy."

Older Remus smirked. "Wait till you see him now." He reached out a hand, and they all took hold. In a blink of an eye older Remus Apparated the four of them away.

* * *

"Woah, it's like looking back into my childhood," Teddy said when they arrived at the base. He was in his mid-twenties and his hair was bright teal, and just as messy as it was when he was a child.

"Teddy?" Hermione said, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. Her Teddy was still shorter than her, but it looked like he had all of Remus's height.

"Hi, Mum, or younger Mum, I guess," Teddy said with a grin. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and Hermione sighed, leaning into him.

"It's like looking in a mirror," Remus murmured, wrapping his arms around his son once Hermione had stepped back.

"Eh, I'm way better looking, old man," Teddy replied, clapping his father on the back.

"Told you," older Remus murmured to Hermione.

"This is so strange," Hermione replied, shaking her head.

"Very," older Hermione replied. "Let's get to work, shall we? Teddy what's the VPMC look like?"

"It's charged and ready to go, Mum."

"VPMC?" Hermione asked.

"An algorithm I created in order to categorize the vampire virus and attempt to use various Arithmancy equations on it to try and figure out a way to either neutralize it or make it go extinct in all its hosts at once, thereby killing the hosts," older Hermione explained. "I've got it set up on a couple of laptops, one for the neutralizing and one for extinction."

"Right, what do you need from me then?" Hermione asked.

"That big brain, of course," Teddy joked.

Older Hermione waved her arm, as she turned and headed through a set of stainless steel double doors. Almost like doors into a chef's kitchen. She rattled off facts about the latest hideout while she walked. Apparently it was an old military base installation, but with most of the Muggles being turned into vampires, there wasn't much of a Muggle military anymore.

"It's almost like a zombie apocalypse," Hermione mused as she considered the problem.

"It's exactly like that!" Teddy replied from behind. Hermione turned to see Teddy following them, but both Remus's were back where they had originally Apparated in at, in deep discussion with one another.

"Here we are," she announced, opening a final set of double doors. The most high-tech laboratory Hermione had ever seen gleamed at her. There were several computers, lots of screens, and a few people were gesturing in front of the screens. It was technology that Hermione couldn't even dream about. She knew she was gaping when Teddy pushed her chin up.

"It's the neutralizing combinations I'm having trouble with," older Hermione said leading her over to a huge work stations. Two screens the size of large televisions stood side by side and Arithmancy equations shot across them at warp speed. "I've mostly figured out a way to make them all go extinct at once, I'm just running through the process with a few checks and variables. We have about forty-eight hours to figure this out and if we can't, we need to do the extinction burst. It's safer for everyone that way. Honestly, even if we _can_ neutralize the virus, it might still be best to make it go extinct."

Hermione grimaced, knowing her older self was right, however much she didn't want to kill anyone.

* * *

By the end of the forty-eight hours, they were no closer to finding a way to neutralize the virus. Neither Hermione nor Remus slept as they worked feverishly. Hermione to try and save lives and Remus in protecting the compound. Patrolling with the older Remus was enough to keep most of the vampires at bay, but occasionally one or a small group of either very dumb or incredibly brave vampires would venture forth. The Remus's ignited them on fire. It was as much a warning to the others who were lurking in the woods beyond as it was easier than driving them off.

"Give me six more hours," Hermione muttered, chugging another Invigoration Draught. "I know I can come up with something."

"We're out of time, Mum," Teddy said apologetically. "Mum, well older Mum, didn't want to say anything, but we were given a time limit by the ICW. They are going to bomb the entire island to take care of the problem. Killing all of the vampires, but also us, and any other pockets of humanity who have survived. We know they're out there, we can pick them up on the radio sometimes."

"I can do it," Hermione insisted, waving her arms in front of the screen and filling ten Arithmancy equations at once with various variables.

"We really are out of time," older Hermione said apologetically. "I wish there was something more we could do."

Hermione sighed, defeated. She knew they were right, but she felt so close to a solution. She sat back, watching the work bustle around her,

Several of the assistants were filling a large tank, while another attached a hose. When the tank was full, Teddy held out his hand. He had one hand on the tank and both Hermione's took his other.

In a flash, they were gone. They landed outside, it was night again. _The better to lure vampires_ , Hermione thought to herself with a shiver. There was a wide electric current running around the outside of the small clearing they were in. Just beyond it hundreds upon hundreds of red eyes blinked. The vampires were here.

"You ready for this?" Remus asked, winding his arms around her.

Hermione shook her head. "It feels so cruel."

"It's for the best," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her head.

"It's time!" older Remus shouted. "Everyone be ready, the potion shouldn't harm you if it touches you, but all the same, try to keep it off. I've got the nozzle set up like a giant sprinkler, we should be well out of the way, standing near the tank."

"Three, two, one!" older Hermione shouted. With a flourish, the electric current went out at the same time the potion started spewing from the nozzle atop the tank. Vampires streamed forward, teeth blazing until they got a bit of potion on them. Then they were clawing and fighting their way back, stumbling on those attempting to come forward. It was a writhing, seething, screaming mass of humanity and it had Hermione covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut at the sight of it.

Hours later, and no new vampires came forth. The tank barely sputtering out any potion. Those that were unable to get away from the potion's dousing lay dead in heaps and piles. Others who had managed to get away were fleeing far and wide. Spreading the potion to their brethren who hadn't been lured here.

"Give it a week or so, and they'll all be dead," older Hermione said. Her voice was as sad as Hermione felt.

"Let's go," Remus replied. "We've been away from Teddy long enough."

Hermione nodded, already thinking of how she was going to prevent this future from coming true. Just because it happened once, didn't mean it needed to happen again.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	31. On the Seduction Line

**A/N: Thanks for the mods for hosting this fest! Written for The Restricted Section Kink-Tober fest! And many thanks to NuclearNik, my beta, for stepping in at the last moment! MsMerlin made a gorgeous manip you can find on my Tumblr! I love it so much, thank you!**

 **If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass/Tom Riddle**

 **Rating: M**

 **Summary: The wizarding world has been devastated by the second wizarding world. Most of the British wizards are dead and Voldemort is still alive and going strong. Dumbledore urges Hermione and Daphne to go back in time to do what they can to stop Tom Riddle before he becomes Voldemort.**

* * *

 **On the Seduction Line**

* * *

Hermione Granger looked around at the devastation at Hogwarts, her eyes were too dry for tears though she felt like crying. A lump in her throat made it hard for her to swallow. There were bodies and body parts everywhere. It was worse than the battle ten years ago. Far, far worse. It wasn't supposed to have happened like this. Two-thirds of the wizarding population of Britain was lying dead on the grounds of the premiere wizarding school in the country.

Harry Potter had been dead for ten years, and still, Voldemort reigned over the land.

"Come on," Daphne Greengrass murmured, coaxing Hermione forward. She wrapped her hand around Hermione's and tugged. Daphne was one of the few people still alive that was Hermione's age. They were all gone. The entire Weasley family had been taken out two years ago. That's when Hermione had truly stopped crying. What was there left to cry for when her entire adopted family was gone?

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked tiredly as she and Daphne picked their way over the still battlefield. The smoke from spellfire hung in the air, making it difficult to make out all of the carnage. It smelled of blood, sweat, magic, and death. She almost choked on it. As a child she had loved the smell of spellfire—that sharp, acrid sulfur scent had always served to remind her of the magic in the world, of the possibilities. Now it only reminded her of death.

"Dumbledore wants to see us," Daphne said. Her voice sounded as haggard as Hermione felt, and she squeezed Daphne's hand tightly. They'd been awake for going on two days, and Hermione could see the way the last few days were weighing on Daphne.

"Hey." Hermione pulled Daphne to a stop just inside the entrance hall doors of the castle. "You alright?" she asked, brushing her hand across Daphne's cheek. Daphne nuzzled into her hand for a moment, silent tears tracking down her face. She sniffed once and nodded. "Come here," Hermione murmured, wrapping her arms around the taller witch's shoulders.

Daphne hugged Hermione back, burying her face in Hermione's hair as her shoulders shook with sobs. "I've got you," Hermione whispered over and over again. What else could she say? Daphne had just watched her sister get slashed in two on the battlefield a few short hours ago. Hermione held her close, stroking her hair until Daphne had calmed some.

A moment later, Hermione found her back pressed against the wall as Daphne's lips found hers. Little shocks of electricity danced across Hermione's skin as Daphne snogged her. Her hand was buried in Hermione's thick hair, directing her head, and Hermione let herself melt against Daphne. She sighed as Daphne tore herself away and began trailing a path of hot, wet kisses along Hermione's throat. Daphne always treated tragedy as a reason to get naked and fuck. Hell, Daphne treated basically anything as a reason to get naked and fuck.

Hermione grunted when Daphne's hand found its way beneath her jeans and inside her knickers. "Fuck," she muttered when Daphne found her clit immediately.

"That's the plan," Daphne groaned against Hermione's mouth. Hermione nipped at Daphne's lower lip before reaching inside the taller witch's robes. Even on the battlefield, Daphne wore a dress. It was easy to pull it over her hips and slide her fingers across Daphne's wet folds.

"Always a tease, Granger. Fuck me already," Daphne growled, sinking two fingers inside Hermione.

Hermione huffed out a laugh and copied Daphne's movements. She shifted her weight, allowing Daphne better access to her cunt as Daphne hooked a leg around Hermione's hip, opening herself completely to Hermione's questing fingers. With her other hand, Hermione began tweaking one of Daphne's nipples and was pleased when the other witch keened.

"You know, a bed would make this easier," Hermione said as conversationally as she could with three of Daphne's fingers buried inside her and making that _come hither_ motion that always made her see stars.

She squeezed a fourth finger inside Daphne, making the same motion and thumbing her clit. Hermione smiled when Daphne shrieked and pitched over the edge of her climax, partially collapsing against Hermione. Daphne's fingers were still buried inside, and Hermione squeezed her inner muscles around them.

"Salazar you're good at that, Granger," Daphne murmured, moving her fingers faster and faster, mashing her thumb to Hermione's clit in just the way she needed.

"Harder," Hermione gasped.

Daphne slammed her back into the wall behind her, yanking on her hair and pounding her hand into Hermione's slick cunt. It was what Hermione needed to reach her peak. She didn't come as easily as Daphne did, and her orgasms were often smaller, but even that was enough to take the edge off. Daphne pulled her hand free of Hermione's jeans and licked her fingers clean. Grabbing Hermione's hand, she licked her fingers too before turning and pulling Hermione after her, heading for the Headmaster's office.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not," Hermione said resolutely. "This is insanity, Dumbledore!"

"Please, Hermione. Hear me out," the headmaster said. He looked old and worn out, and his voice sounded so raspy it was sometimes difficult for Hermione to make out what he was trying to say. His glasses sat on top of his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was ironic that Dumbledore with his cursed hand was still alive when so many others weren't.

"We'll either bugger this timeline completely, or we'll create an entirely new one! You would cease to exist! Is that what you want to risk?" Hermine argued.

"I think we should hear him out," Daphne said quietly. Hermione turned sharply toward her friend, glaring at her. "Look, let's just see what his entire plan is. How far back? What specifically does he want us to influence?"

Hermione turned back to Dumbledore and crossed her arms over her chest. Any positive feelings left over from her recent orgasm had dissipated entirely in the face of this new fuckery from Dumbledore. Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses, polishing them against the sleeve of his robes for a long moment. Hermione began tapping her foot in her impatience. She hated the manipulative bullshit Dumbledore _still_ tried to pull.

"I want you to go back and try to gather Tom's friends around yourselves instead. I think going back after Tom leaves Hogwarts but before he disappears from Britain is essential. Ignore Tom. That's the key. Ignore Tom so that he will be jealous. Do what you can for his own good, sway his friends and followers to your side. Stop the Horcruxes if you can. We now know what they are, but too many of them have moved beyond our reach. We'll never win in this timeline because of it." Dumbledore's voice seemed noticeably weaker when he was finished, and he slumped slightly in his chair, as if the directive alone was enough to steal his life from him.

"And the fact that we're essentially bombing this timeline to hell?" Hermione spat.

"Who is there left to save?" Dumbledore whispered. "There's nobody left. Nobody wants to live in this world."

"What about the Muggles? They know nothing of this war! We're condemning them too. It's not just Britain, Dumbledore. We're talking about fucking the entire world!"

"Time is a loop," Dumbledore insisted. "Whatever you change back then, will change here."

"And if we unmake someone? What if we unmake Harry? Or even myself or Daphne?" The thought alone caused Hermione to shiver. As much as she missed her friends, at least they'd had a chance to live before Voldemort ruined everything. What would happen if they didn't even get that chance? It hurt both her heart and her head thinking about it.

"You'll be anchored in the new time. Even if your future self isn't born, you'll still be there." Dumbledore's voice was so raspy at the end that Hermione had to strain to hear him. He coughed so hard, his entire body shook with it.

"We won't if time is a loop," Daphne said once Dumbledore's coughing fit was over. "It's risky, but Hermione, I agree with Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled then, and Hermione turned back toward her friend. She had to make them see reason. This was complete insanity, and Dumbledore's plan of ignoring Tom Riddle? Stupid. Hermione would rather cast an Avada at him and spend the rest of her life in Azkaban then work on Dumbledore's idiotic plan.

"You aren't thinking clearly. This has the potential to fuck the world up for good. We're only going to get one shot at this, and if we fuck it up, it's done. We have to live with the consequences," Hermione hissed.

"Then we'd better not fail," Daphne said, her lips twitching up slightly. "You rarely fail at anything anyway." She moved closer to Hermione, placing her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "You know this is the right thing. It's the _only_ thing that makes sense. It's the only thing that's going to work."

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to believe it, but after this last battle there wasn't enough of the Order left to fight Voldemort. She gulped down a sob that suddenly threatened to burst forth from her lips. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"Me too," Daphne said, smiling sadly.

"Here," Dumbledore gasped, sliding forward the oddest looking Time-Turner Hermione had ever seen. It looked as if it had been cobbled together out of at least four other Time-Turners. It was spherical with half a dozen concentric spheres and four hourglasses in the middle.

"It's set. Just pull the pin," he said, giving them a slight smile before breaking off into another coughing fit. Hermione wondered then if Dumbledore only planned to stay alive long enough to see them off.

Daphne snatched the Time-Turner from the desk, slipping the long chain over her head and grabbing Hermione's hand once more.

"We should do it outside the gates," Hermione said. "So we don't appear in the Headmaster's office. What year are we going back to?"

"1947. Two years after Tom graduated from Hogwarts. He worked at Borgin and Burke's until 1955. Plenty of time to recruit Tom's friends and associates." Dumbledore seemed to be losing his life in front of them as he slumped further in his chair.

"Will you be alright?" Daphne asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore whispered, waving them away with his cursed hand. Daphne nodded smartly and pulled Hermione out of Dumbledore's office.

The minute they were past the gargoyle statue, Daphne started talking.

"Obviously, Dumbledore's addled," she said.

"Oh, thank God." Hermione was relieved. "I didn't want to say anything, but going into the past is a fool's errand."

"Not about that," Daphne snapped. "About his plan. Ignore Tom? Fuck no, we're going to seduce him."

Hermione pulled to a stop, yanking on Daphne's hand. "What?"

Daphne turned to face her, a seductive smirk on her face. "You think Tom Riddle is going to stand a chance against two battle-hardened thirty-year-old women hell-bent on getting him into bed? In '47 he's what? Twenty, twenty-one tops? It'll be a cakewalk."

"And then what?" Hermione hissed. "After we lure him into bed, we kill him?"

Daphne shrugged. "If he won't cooperate sure. Or we pull information about his Horcruxes out of him and destroy those. How many would he have?"

"Two—the diary and the ring," Hermione answered absently as she tried to grapple with Daphne's plan.

"Good. We destroy them both, then we figure out what to do with baby Riddle."

"How do we even know he's into women?" Hermione asked. "He might be asexual or gay!"

"Please, with all the phallic imagery of the Death Eaters? That man has a boner for women. I mean, maybe not now that he's all _snakified_ , but I guarantee you he did when he was twenty," Daphne said. She wrenched open the door to the castle, and Hermione almost threw up as the reality of having to walk through the battlefield strewn with bodies once more hit her. It was utterly silent outside the castle; the wind didn't blow, no animals or birds scurried. It was just silence and death.

"Fine," Hermione said. "We'll try it your way. But if it doesn't work, I'm killing him."

"It'll work," Daphne said grimly as she looped her arm through Hermione's.

Taking a deep breath, the two left the castle that had been their home for most of their lives and picked their way through the battlefield before them. The moment they were on the other side of the gates, Daphne tossed the necklace of the Time-Turner over Hermione's head.

"Ready?" Daphne asked, holding the Time-Turner in one hand, while the other wrapped around Hermione's waist.

"No," Hermione admitted. Daphne smirked at her and pulled the pin from the Time-Turner at the same time she pressed a kiss to Hermione's lips.

A whirling sensation swooshed over, around, and through them as they travelled sixty-one years back into the past.

* * *

"This was stupid, idiotic," Hermione hissed as she and Daphne slipped through Diagon Alley. "We don't even have any money! No jobs! No references! No place to live! No fucking planning!"

"Chill, Granger," Daphne murmured. "I have a plan."

Hermione's hand twitched against Daphne's as Daphne pulled her along toward Gringotts.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded in a furious whisper. "We can't go in there."

"Listen, Hermione," Daphne turned around, pushing Hermione into a nearby building. The Alley was crowded enough that most people ignored them. "I know you don't understand all the intricacies of the wizarding world and being pure-blooded despite how much you've tried. I just need you to trust me on this. Once a Greengrass, always a Greengrass. The goblins will recognize me, and I should be able to access my family's money."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out. "I'll just wait here for you then."

"That's probably a good idea," Daphne said. "Wish me luck," she added, pressing a quick kiss against Hermione's lips before making her way toward Gringotts. Hermione watched after her with fear, terror, and indecision roiling in her stomach. Nothing about this seemed like a good idea to her, but it was done. They were back in 1947, and there was nothing to be done about it. The modified Time-Turner Dumbledore had given them spontaneously combusted the moment the world stopped moving around them. Even if they were to attempt to go back to the future, what future would be left for them? Dumbledore said time was a loop, but Hermione wasn't convinced. She took a few more deep breaths, attempting to calm her anxieties and began following Daphne toward Gringotts. She could at least wait outside while Daphne went down and stole funds from her family vault.

Almost half an hour later, Hermione felt like she was about to crawl out of her skin when Daphne finally appeared at the top of the Gringotts steps. Hermione let out a slow breath as Daphne flashed her a quick grin and sauntered down the stairs. Apparently, she had been successful as she had a hefty bag hanging off of her belt.

"Now, we have funds to last us for a few months. Let's go get a room and get cleaned up before _Operation Seduction_ begins."

Hermione snorted and looped her arm around Daphne's. The fact that they had money and access to more eased many of Hermione's worries. "I'm pretty sure _Operation Seduction_ began the moment you tossed that Time-Turner around our necks."

Daphne hummed her agreement as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted in the new robes they had bought—she wasn't quite comfortable in the 1940s style, but she felt beautiful. "Are you sure approaching him at work is the way to go?" Hermione asked.

"No. Ideally we'd approach him at a society event, but since we don't know anybody in this society, we'll have to make do," Daphne responded. "Just pretend to be snotty and discerning, and he'll fall all over himself to attempt to make a sale. And show your tits. They're your best feature."

Hermione rolled her eyes, tugging her robes down further to show the tops of her breasts. She took a deep breath and strode confidently into Borgin and Burkes. It was much less run-down than it had been in her time, which Hermione hoped meant she wouldn't be as out of place as she felt. Squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up just right, Hermione let her eyelids fall close just slightly and breezed through the door of the shop.

The bell tinkled above her as she took in her surroundings. She knew not to touch anything without first checking it for curses. This was especially dangerous for her, a Muggle-born. There could be objects in here designed specifically for someone like her. Burying her feelings, Hermione wandered down the aisles, occasionally pausing to peer closer at items at random. She wondered when the person at the counter with their back to the shop would acknowledge her.

"Mmm, that one bites," someone whispered in Hermione's ear. She bit back a scream as she straightened to find a young and devilishly handsome Tom Riddle staring down at her. His eyes were a deep, dark blue, and Hermione wondered when exactly they turned red.

"You startled me," Hermione said in her best imitation of Daphne, taking a step back from him. He followed her, so she straightened her spine and held her ground.

"Apologies, madam," Riddle replied. He looked her over, and Hermione didn't miss the way his mouth almost turned up into a smirk when his eyes landed on her cleavage. She wondered what he was thinking as he finally dragged his gaze back up to her. "I'm not sure we've met…"

"Hermione Granger," she held out her hand, "I've just moved here from the continent."

Riddle took her hand, holding her eyes as he slowly brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her fingers. "Your accent is remarkable flawless," Riddle said, still holding her hand.

"I had excellent tutors, Mr…."

"Riddle. Tom Riddle," he grinned at her then. Hermione wasn't acting when she sighed and licked her bottom lip, Riddle's eyes narrowing in on her movements. Hermione was shocked at the overwhelming attraction she had for him. He was young, to be sure, but he was beautiful. He had an aura of danger about him that drew Hermione like a moth to a flame. There was a reason that Hermione and Daphne had been fucking on and off for the last three years—Hermione liked her partners on the dangerous side, and whether that was fake or true danger didn't matter. She'd been involved with Draco Malfoy shortly after Harry's death for similar reasons.

She quickly buried thoughts of Draco. Draco had been brutally tortured and murdered by the man in front of her, sixty years in the future. It wasn't her future anymore. It was nobody's future, actually, because Hermione simply meeting Tom Riddle in the past was enough to change the future. For good or ill, it was done.

"Charmed," Hermione said finally, smiling up at him. "I was wondering Mr Riddle—"

She cut herself off when the shop door opened and the bell above it tinkled once more. Riddle looked at her curiously as Hermione tilted her head to the side, trying to decide if the low click of shoes on the hardwood was Daphne or someone else.

"There you are," Daphne murmured from behind Hermione. She turned, looking over the shoulder at Daphne and offered her a small grin.

"Daphne, please, may I introduce you?" Hermione said warmly, turning back to face Riddle. He couldn't tear his eyes from Daphne, and Hermione almost rolled her eyes. Typical. Daphne often garnered male attention. She was very beautiful, effortless in a way that Hermione had never been.

"Mr Riddle, this is Daphne Greengrass, my travelling companion. Daphne, meet Mr Tom Riddle, proprietor of this shop."

Riddle dropped Hermione's hand and grasped the one Daphne offered as she came to stand next to Hermione. Even in her heels, Daphne towered over her. Hermione almost felt childlike in comparison to Riddle and Daphne.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well," Riddle murmured against Daphne's hand before kissing it. Daphne raised an eyebrow at Hermione, getting a shrug in return.

"I'm sorry to have misled you," Riddle said as he dropped Daphne's hand and gave them both a small bow. "I, however, am not the proprietor of this fine shop. Just a lowly assistant."

"Oh?" Daphne asked. "I never would have guessed." She placed a hand on Riddle's chest. "You have the look of a shop proprietor about you."

Hermione's eyes widened at Daphne's blatant insult. Riddle was far too haughty to allow himself to be a simple proprietor. His eyes narrowed at Daphne, and he turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, how may I assist you today?"

"I'm looking for a specific piece of jewellry," Hermione said. "We believe it belonged to my great-grandmother,and we have tracked it here."

"Well, let's take a look through our scrolls, shall we?" Riddle offered Hermione his arm, and she took it, throwing a glare at Daphne who smirked at her. Hermione was sure Daphne had a plan, but she didn't think insulting Riddle was the way to go about it.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione and Riddle had been through every inventory receipt in the store, and not a single mention of the "item" Hermione was looking for was found.

"Drat, I do believe I was given poor information," Hermione said glumly. She was seated at a small table in the backroom of the shop with an empty cup of tea in front of her.

Riddle flicked his wand and warmed the water for tea again, pouring her a cup. "Perhaps if you described the piece to me?" It wasn't the first time he offered, but Hermione still shook her head. She truly was looking for a piece of jewellry: Slytherin's Locket. But there was no mention of it anywhere. Which she feared meant that Tom already had it and had scrubbed it from the books.

"It is very likely that it's just not here," Hermione said. "Thank you so much for spending the day with me and searching for it, Mr Riddle. You've been ever so helpful," Hermione smiled brilliantly at him.

"It really was no trouble, Miss Granger. I'm always happy to help. Research is one of my favourite things to do," Riddle replied.

Hermione stood from her chair, and Riddle scrambled to follow her. "I don't suppose I could beg you for another favour?" Hermione asked over her shoulder as she led Riddle out of the backroom.

"If it's in my power to grant, I'd be happy to," Riddle responded. His sudden eagerness made Hermione wonder just how attracted to her he was. Her and Daphne's plan relied on a certain amount of lust from Riddle, and it would be good if Hermione could test those waters now.

She turned to face him, still standing just inside the doorway. Wringing her hands in front of her, she called up a look of embarrassment. "It's just that Daphne and I don't really _know_ anybody here in England."

Riddle nodded along thoughtfully, but Hermione was sure she could see a glimmer of something in his eyes.

"And you seem like such a fine young man," Hermione added, placing her hand on his arm, just above his elbow. She squeezed her hand and wasn't surprised to feel him flexing beneath her fingers. Men were the same everywhere. "Perhaps you could introduce us to a few of your contemporaries?"

Riddle seemed to think over the suggestion carefully, but Hermione was sure now that the glimmer in his eyes was triumph. _Good,_ she thought. She wanted him to believe he was winning something here. A triumphant Riddle was a Riddle who would be complacent.

"I'm sure I could arrange something. Where are you and Miss Greengrass staying?"

"Just at the Leaky Cauldron for now," Hermione said. "It's not the best, but we arrived a little short on time. I believe Daphne is working on finding us a better arrangement now."

Tom nodded. "I'll owl you then. I believe there may be an engagement near the end of this week that I could wrangle you an invite to."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked hopefully, putting every last ounce of her innocence into her eyes as she gazed up at him. "That would be wonderful!" she gushed.

Tom looked incredibly pleased with himself, so Hermione decided it was time to throw him off balance again. She braced herself against his chest and rose up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. She still had her hand wrapped around his bicep and squeezed it once more. "Really, thank you, Mr Riddle," Hermione breathed under her breath against his face.

She was unsurprised when she settled back onto her feet that Tom was standing there looking slightly dumbstruck. If he'd had sex before, Hermione would be shocked—he gave off a vibe that screamed virgin to her. Suddenly, she was very much looking forward to her mission with Daphne.

* * *

"At the Malfoy's? My, he does move in high circles," Daphne murmured as she read over the invitation they had just received. "Think he'll be ready to seduce already?"

"I think he's a bloody virgin," Hermione replied. She wrapped an arm around Daphne's waist and kissed her shoulder. "And I think he's hungry to get laid. Seducing him won't be the hard part."

"No? What will be the hard part?" Daphne asked, turning in Hermione's arms.

"Getting the two Horcruxes he definitely has, destroying them, and convincing him not to make any more of them," Hermione replied.

Daphne hummed her agreement and pressed her lips against Hermione's, before trailing them down her neck. Hermione shivered at the attention Daphne was showing her and slipped her hands inside Daphne's loose dressing gown, trailing her fingers over the warm skin she found there.

"Any ideas on how we do that?" Daphne whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione trailed her fingers and tweaked one of Daphne's nipples as her hands worked to get Hermione naked.

"Promise him a legitimate political advantage," Hermione replied. She groaned when Daphne bent her head and took one of Hermione's newly exposed nipples into her mouth. "Fuck, Daph," Hermione muttered as Daphne sucked hard.

Daphne pulled away from Hermione's breast long enough to grunt, "Keep talking." Then she closed her lips around Hermione's nipple once more, all the while backing Hermione toward the bed.

"We'll need to get in with all of the powerful pure-blood families, ingratiate ourselves and Riddle as well. Change the entire political structure to give Riddle the power he craves," Hermione sighed as one of Daphne's hands slipped between her folds.

With a light shove, Hermione was falling onto the bed and Daphne scrambling on top of her. She pressed two fingers into Hermione's slick channel, pulling a grunt from her. Daphne grinned around Hermione's other nipple but didn't stop her ministrations. She bit lightly at Hermione's tender skin reminding Hermione to keep talking.

"Once we get Riddle firmly in our camp," Hermione said, her hands wrapping around Daphne's head to keep her lover at her breasts, "then we can work on destroying the Horcruxes. We need to keep Tom busy. Instead of going off to look for more pieces of the Founders, he needs to be kept busy with garnering power to himself."

Daphne added a fourth finger, and Hermione found herself unable to think when her body was humming, twisting, turning—gearing up for what promised to be a mind-blowing orgasm.

Sliding down Hermione's body, Daphne placed her lips around Hermione's clit and sucked just like she'd done to Hermione's nipples. Hermione shouted as her entire body went taut, and she rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Daphne's fingers continued to plunge into her over and over again. The suction on her clit never ceased.

Long moments later, after Hermione had dozed off and woken again, she found Daphne leaning over her. "Triads aren't completely unheard of," Daphne said, trailing a finger down Hermione's naked chest. "There are certain rituals that can be performed, increasing a triad's power, binding them together."

Hermione grinned up at her. "I knew there was a reason I loved you," she murmured, reaching for Daphne and kissing her fiercely. She rolled them over until Daphne was on her back, and Hermione was straddling her stomach. "So are we doing it? Forming a triad with Riddle? Giving him power, but guiding him away from his worst impulses?"

"Yes," Daphne hissed as Hermione's fingers found her nipples and began pinching them.

Hermione grinned again before placing her lips against Daphne's chest, trailing down until she was face-to-face with Daphne's delightful quim.

* * *

A week later, the gala at Malfoy Manor was in full swing as Hermione and Daphne stepped out of the fireplace. A house-elf appeared to take their travelling cloaks and disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Another house-elf came by with a tray of champagne before they had even been greeted. The entry hall was empty, but the moment they each had a glass of champagne in hand, a suave-looking blond man swept into the room with Riddle walking right behind him.

"Ah, you must be the Misses Granger and Greengrass," the blond man said, his voice oozing with sophistication. Both Riddle and the blond man were dressed to the nines in the wizarding equivalent of Muggle tuxedos.

"Indeed we are," Daphne answered for them. "Daphne Greengrass," she held out her hand for the blond man to take.

He did so, murmuring his name over it. "Abraxas Malfoy, at your service," he said, kissing the back of it.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, holding her hand aloft as well.

"My, Tom, you do know how to pick them," Malfoy grinned after giving Hermione's hand the same treatment he had given Daphne's.

Riddle frowned at Malfoy and shouldered past him to greet the women. Hermione smiled at him slyly and reached up on her tiptoes to place another kiss at the corner of his mouth. Daphne followed suit, much to Tom's surprise.

"So lovely to see you again, Mr Riddle," Daphne said, batting her eyelashes at him. Hermione almost rolled her eyes at that coquettish behaviour, but she reminded herself to stay in character and looped her arm through Riddle's.

"You'll give us the tour, won't you?" Hermione asked, looking up at him.

"Absolutely," Riddle responded with a smirk over his shoulder at Malfoy. Daphne copied Hermione and slid her arm through Riddle's he led them through the Manor, pointing out the sights on the way to the ballroom. Malfoy trailed along behind them, and Hermione was sure he was simmering, but Malfoy wasn't her problem—Riddle was.

It was several hours later that Hermione and Daphne were finally able to convince Riddle to sneak out of the gala for a more thorough tour of the Manor.

"I only know my way around a little," Riddle admitted.

"Enough to find a guest room?" Daphne suggested, biting her lip as her fingers danced up his chest.

Riddle smirked. "Yes, I believe I can find you a guest room, Miss Greengrass."

"Not just me," Daphne said, becoming bolder now. She was almost the same height as Tom, and she leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Us."

"Us," Hermione repeated, squeezing Riddle's arm. "If you're interested, that is."

Riddle's eyes widened momentarily before his smirk was back in place. "Right this way, ladies."

Hermione winked at Daphne as Riddle led them out of the ballroom. They were halfway up the stairs to the first floor when Malfoy stopped them.

"Tom! What on earth are you doing?" Malfoy asked from the bottom of the staircase. Riddle dropped Hermione's and Daphne's arms and turned slowly to face his friend.

"Taking advantage of your hospitality, Abraxas. Is that going to be a problem?" The statement was so cold, Hermione shivered. For the first time, she could see the future Dark Lord in him.

Malfoy looked startled and backed away, bowing slightly. "No, of course not. My apologies, Tom. Ladies." He shot them one last look before hurrying back to the party in the ballroom. The deference showed by Malfoy was interesting, and Hermione shot a look to Daphne. They'd have to address the "followers" business.

"Sorry about that," Riddle said quietly, placing a hand on each of their lower backs, directing them up the rest of the stairs. "Abraxas plays at being overprotective at times."

"What, exactly, is he overprotective of?" Hermione asked. "You?"

Riddle laughed. It was cold and sharp and did strange things to Hermione's insides—not all of them good. "Yes, sometimes."

He directed them to the first door on the left once they'd reached the first floor, and the door opened up into an impeccably appointed guest suite in pale blues and creams. There was a large bed in the center of the room, large enough to easily sleep four. The windows opposite the door were open, and the sheer curtains fluttered slightly in the cool breeze that was coming through.

The moment the door was shut behind them, Daphne was on Riddle. She pushed him up against the wall and snogged him senseless. Hermione's heart beat sped up as she watched them—it was arousing, erotic even. She approached Daphne from behind and slid her hands over the back of Riddle's where they were gripping Daphne's hips tightly. Directing Riddle, Hermione trailed their hands up Daphne's body and placed his hand on Daphne's breast.

"She likes it when you squeeze and thumb her nipple at the same time," Hermione said, demonstrating precisely what Daphne liked. Daphne moaned, her head falling backwards as Riddle kissed his way down her throat.

"What else?" he gasped when Hermione lifted Daphne's leg to hook around his hip.

"Frottage," Hermione replied. "She's always down for a little frottage. You do know what frottage is, don't you?"

Riddle glared at her as he flexed his hips against Daphne's core. With the hand that wasn't teasing Daphne's breast, he reached out and yanked Hermione to him, his hand quickly burying in her hair as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was brutal, harsh, full of lips and teeth, and Hermione fucking loved it. She was still standing off to the side as Riddle and Daphne humped against the wall and felt a bit like the odd man out, but suddenly Daphne had a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her dress off.

"Fuck," Riddle muttered when both Hermione and Daphne pulled back, sliding their dresses down their bodies and showing him just how prepared they were for the evening. They were both entirely naked. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Let's just say you intrigue us," Daphne responded with a cool smile. "And you appear entirely overdressed. Hermione," Daphne said, tipping her head in Riddle's direction. Hermione obeyed Daphne and stepped forward, smiling at Riddle as she began pulling off his cravat and then unbuttoning his jacket and the shirt beneath. Once his chest was bare, Daphne pushed Hermione's head toward it, and Hermione took the cue, kissing and licking her way toward his waist while Riddle hissed a sharp breath above her.

"Now his trousers," Daphne said. Hermione made quick work of his belt, trousers, and pants, shoving them off his hips. She licked her lips when she saw how hard and large Riddle's cock was. "Suck it," Daphne ordered.

Hermione sank to her knees. She didn't bother attempting to tease him, knowing it would just irritate Daphne. Instead, she opened her mouth and pulled him inside as far as he could go. When the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, she swallowed.

Riddle choked above her, his hands flying to her head and holding her in place as his hips rocked forward. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted over and over again as Hermione sucked him. She pulled her mouth from his cock and licked the head like a lollipop, giving him a moment to recover.

"Does she always take your direction?" Riddle asked. Hermione looked out of the corner of her eye to see that Daphne was standing some distance away, her fingers on her clit, watching the two of them.

"Yes," Daphne replied. "She's quite the obedient little lady in the bedroom."

Hermione smirked at Daphne and crooked her finger, indicating she should come closer. Daphne sidled up to the wall next to Riddle, her fingers once again going to her clit. Hermione slapped her hand away, grabbing Riddle's cock firmly with one hand and using the other to spread Daphne's folds.

"Oh, fuck," Daphne murmured as Hermione licked her clit. One of Daphne's hands landed on Hermione's hair and pulled her closer. Hermione used the same rhythm with her hand pumping Riddle's cock as she did with her tongue on Daphne's clit. Sliding her hand down, she pushed two fingers inside Daphne.

"Fucking Salazar," Riddle hissed. "I assumed you two were a bit of an item, but I never—" he cut himself off as Hermione pulled away from Daphne and took his cock in her mouth once more.

Daphne laughed breathlessly. "Hermione's fucking relentless. Hope you're ready for that, Riddle."

"I like persistence," Riddle grunted. Hermione almost smirked around his cock—he had no idea what he was in for. The longer she had his cock in her mouth, though, the more she liked Daphne's plan. Frankly, she missed cock. It had been far too long. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Hermione swallowed around the head of Riddle's cock again, then shoved it deeper into her throat, almost choking herself on it until her nose was pressed against his abdomen.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come. Fuck!" Riddle shouted, his cock swelling in Hermione's mouth and throat before finally it pulsed and his seed spilled inside her. She swallowed most of it, before slowly dragging his cock out of her mouth and grinning up at him, a trail of come dangling from her lips.

"That was…" he trailed off, seeming not to have any words. He gripped Hermione's shoulders and pulled her to standing, quickly shifting their positions so her back was against the wall and snogged her fiercely. He didn't seem to mind that he was tasting his own come as he thrust his tongue in her mouth.

"Bed," Daphne demanded. "We should move this to the bed."

She pulled on Riddle's shoulder and pushed him across the room. Hermione followed, smirking. Riddle was definitely inexperienced. This was going to be as easy as Daphne thought.

* * *

A week after the gala, Tom showed up on their doorstep with a bottle of wine in hand. They had finally found long-term accommodations in Diagon Alley and shared a little two-bedroom flat for propriety's sake, though the second bedroom was doubling as a study and library.

"Mr Riddle! This is a surprise," Hermione said when she opened the door. And it was—they hadn't told Tom their address.

"It's Tom," he said, entering the flat and pressing a kiss against her cheek. He squeezed her hip as he went past, and Hermione smiled as she shut the door. She liked that he was resourceful, which meant that she and Daphne would have to be exceedingly careful until he was fully committed.

"Tom!" Daphne practically shouted as she bounded into the sitting room from the kitchen. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I was just making dinner. Are you hungry?"

Tom shrugged. "I could eat."

"Good! Sit. Hermione, open the wine," Daphne rattled off before bustling back to the kitchen.

"She's an excellent cook," Hermione said. "Hope you like Italian—her risotto is to die for." She tugged the bottle of wine out of Tom's hands and made short work of the cork, pouring them all a glass. Tom slid his arms around her from behind.

"Daphne gave me a proper greeting, you know," he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

Hermione hummed, trying to play it cool even though her knickers were already growing damp. "Did she now?"

Tom's chuckle sent shivers down her spine as he spun her around in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. Hermione gripped his shoulders, giving him as much as he gave. She didn't even notice when he had her backed against the wall. He lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he rocked into her. His cock was hard and pressed so deliciously against her clit that Hermione groaned in response.

"Seems Daphne isn't the only one who likes frottage," Tom murmured into her ear, breaking the kiss and licking down her neck.

"Dinner's ready," Daphne said from right beside them, startling Hermione. She squeaked, and Tom and Daphne both laughed.

* * *

Hermione and Daphne had arrived in the past four months ago, and it was hard to believe that it was almost Christmas already. Tom didn't have any family and had been spending so much time in their flat that they planned to ask him to move in after the holidays.

Tom didn't really want to do Christmas gifts, but Daphne insisted and bought gifts for everyone, herself included. Hermione purchased a few gifts for them both, knowing that Tom wouldn't bother with it. She'd even bought a gift for herself—new book on triad bonding rituals. She planned to research all of them to determine which one was the best for the three of them. Some were lighter bonding than others, but Hermione wanted the deepest, most serious one she could find. She was going to bind Tom Riddle to her fucking soul for the rest of their lives. It was the best way to neutralize the threat of him.

What Tom didn't know was that Hermione had already found both of his Horcruxes and destroyed them. _What he doesn't know won't hurt him_. Daphne's voice floated through her head. Hermione agreed. He hadn't been to Albania yet, so he didn't have the diadem. Hepzibah Smith was alive and well, so he didn't have the cup. Hermione was reasonably sure that he'd only had the first two Horcruxes. Even if he did have another Horcrux lying around, the next trick up Hermione's sleeve would render it useless.

"How was your errand?" Tom asked as Hermione slipped back into their flat.

"Perfect," Hermione said. She held up the ham she'd run out to the Muggle grocery store to get for Christmas day. "Just need to pop this in the oven and we'll be all set for tomorrow."

Tom grunted and went back to the book he was reading. Hermione took her cloak off and stepped into the kitchen. Thank goodness for 1940s architecture. The kitchen was completely closed off from the rest of the flat.

"And your _other_ errand?" Daphne asked as she prepared the stuffing for the next day.

"Just fine. The potion only lasted fifteen minutes though, bloody waste of Galleons."

"Better than Burke recognizing you," Daphne reminded her.

Hermione nodded and stowed the ham in the icebox. "If we're lucky, when he gets back to work after Christmas and goes through the new inventory, he'll be intrigued."

"He better be," Daphne muttered darkly. "The longer we're back here without binding him to us, the more nervous I get. Especially when he goes off with Abraxas and his gang."

"I know," Hermione replied. And she did know, it was nerve-wracking for her too. Especially now that the Horcruxes were gone. A side benefit of the ritual she wanted to try was that it would make it impossible for one of them to die without the rest of them dying. So unless Tom was ready to die, he wouldn't attempt to kill Hermione or Daphne. In fact, it was in his best interest to make sure they lived long lives.

"Soon," Daphne said, pressing a kiss against Hermione's temple.

* * *

"You aren't going to _believe_ what I've found!" Tom said, bounding through the door of their flat. Hermione looked up to find him holding the book she'd brought to Borgin and Burkes just a week ago. She felt like grinning but kept to a small smile instead.

"What's that?" she asked, standing to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

"It's a book on triads and binding rituals," Tom said. "I haven't read the whole thing, I didn't have time at work. But we have been talking about it, so…" he trailed off, suddenly seeming nervous.

Hermione squealed in excitement and threw her arms around his shoulders. "Yes, Tom Riddle, I would love to bind myself to you!" She kissed him fully on the mouth. "Daphne and I were just talking about it last week, actually," she whispered against his lips. "We weren't sure _you_ would be interested."

"Oh, I am definitely interested," Tom murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close as he plundered her mouth.

"What's this, then? Starting without me?" Daphne asked.

Hermione reluctantly pulled away from Tom and turned toward Daphne, offering her a wink as Tom explained what he had found. Daphne was just as excited as Hermione. With a flick of her wand, she put dinner on hold, and the three of them hurried to the bedroom to celebrate.

* * *

"I'm not sure you'd be interested," Hermione began a few days later after all three of them had a chance to examine the book. In truth, Hermione had picked out the ritual she wanted to do the first time she read through the book, but she wanted to give Tom a chance to read through them all first. She wanted it to ultimately be his idea.

"Which one?" Tom asked. They were on the floor between the sofa and the low table in front of the fireplace. Parchment was scattered around them as they had each made notes of various rites and what was required for each of them.

"This one," Hermione said, flipping through the book until they were almost three-quarters of the way through. "It's complicated and well…"

Tom looked up at her with expectant eyes. "What's your problem with it?"

"It's not that _I_ have a problem with it," she bit her lip and looked to Daphne.

"We thought you might have a problem with it," Daphne explained. "It's a little dark."

"And there's blood magic involved," Hermione whispered, kneeling and facing Tom.

"And sex magic," Daphne added, leaning closer to Tom.

"And we'll need to do it at a set of standing stones," Hermione said, placing her hand on Tom's chest.

"We'll also have to summon a minor deity," Daphne said, crawling into Tom's lap and sliding her arms around his neck.

"Why does this feel like a setup?" Tom asked gruffly as he palmed Daphne's bum and turned his head to capture Hermione's lips in a kiss. Hermione hummed into the kiss.

"Not a setup," Daphne said between licks along Tom's throat. "We just want to make sure we're on the same page. If you don't want to do dark magic, we'll understand."

"Oh, no," Tom laughed, pulling away from Hermione. "I'm not afraid of a little dark magic."

"Good," Hermione replied, making short work of Tom's shirt as Daphne worked on his trousers.

* * *

A month later, they were at the Malfoy standing stones. Abraxas was frowning as Daphne and Hermione began preparing the circle. Tom paced around the circle and began placing candles every twenty paces or so.

"How long is this going to take?" Abraxas asked.

"Don't worry about it," Tom said, walking over to his friend. He clapped him on the shoulder and began leading him away from the standing stones.

"Well, I didn't think Malfoy would be such a stick in the mud," Daphne murmured, pouring salt in a large circle around the stones.

"I think it's that he's afraid of losing his master," Hermione replied.

"Soon to be our bond-mate and nobody's master," Daphne said with satisfaction.

The moment they were finished with the preparations, Tom returned without Abraxas in tow.

"Have you settled him?" Hermione asked, inviting him into the circle.

"I have," Tom confirmed. "He's jealous, I think, mostly." Tom shrugged. He was used to his friends being jealous of him. "Are we ready?"

"We need to set the outer fire," Daphne said. "Once that's done, then we'll gather at the headstone, make the blood sacrifice, and summon _Nantosuelta_. Once we've confirmed the goddess is present and witnessing the events unfold, then we'll ask her for the binding."

"Will she grant the binding?" Tom asked.

"Only if she finds us worthy," Hermione said. "But I don't think she'll actually turn us down. I'm guessing not too many people these days still worship her. As long as we're honest and truthful in our worship, I don't think it will be a problem."

Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment, staring at Hermione. Hermione desperately wanted to dart her eyes to Daphne for reassurance, but she held Tom's gaze, trying to reassure him with her eyes that this wasn't a trick. Despite everything that had happened over the last few months, Tom definitely held them in some suspicion still. "Alright," he said finally. He offered her a smile which she returned.

" _Incendio_ ," Daphne hissed at the oak branches they had laid on the outside of the standing stones. The oak would protect them, and the salt circle was to ensure that the only deity who arrived would be _Nantosuelta_.

"Let's do it," Tom said, grabbing the bowl for their blood sacrifice and a silver knife. They could have used magic, but sometimes, the old ways were the best.

Once the three of them were arranged before the headstone, Daphne cut her wrist first, letting the bright red blood splatter into the bowl Tom was holding. Then Tom cut his wrist, handing the knife to Hermione. She followed suit. After there was a sizable puddle of blood in the bowl, they began to chant. Hermione closed her eyes, and swayed, feeling Tom and Daphne mimic her movements as they called _Nantosuelta_ to their circle.

The wind howled outside of the circle, the fire flickered, and behind her closed eyes, Hermione could sense the world darkening.

" _Who calls Nantosuelta forward after so many years?"_ a voice boomed out. It seemed to come from all around them, and the force of it drove all three of them to their knees.

Hermione took a deep breath, but before she could speak, Tom opened his mouth.

"Please, Goddess _Nantosuelta,_ it is a lowly triad who looks for your blessing," Tom said, his voice deep and deferential.

" _And do your paramours agree to this binding ritual? For that is what my blessing is: a binding ritual to bind you together for now while alive and in death."_ The voice was terrible, hissing like snakes, yet forceful and loud as an elephant's trumpet.

"Yes!" Hermione and Daphne said at the same time. All three still had their eyes closed for fear of looking upon a goddess in the flesh.

" _Then open your eyes and see me_ ," _Nantosuelta_ hissed.

Hermione did, and if you asked her years later what the goddess looked like, she still couldn't tell you. Words could not describe the beauty, the awesomeness, the terribleness before her. The goddess's red hair rippled in an unfelt wind as she towered before them.

" _I must look into each of your hearts to determine the truth of the blessing_." The words were barely out of her mouth before she was suddenly standing in front of Hermione, her hands on Hermione's cheeks as her gaze bored into Hermione's. Hermione struggled, trying to back away from that horrific gaze, but _Nantosuelta_ held tight, and there was nothing Hermione could do but to gaze back. It was the gentlest Legilimency Hermione had ever been subjected to. She could feel the foreign presence in her mind, but beyond that, nothing. And as quick as it started, it felt as if it would last forever, but then it was over, and the goddess moved on to Tom. Hermione bent over, panting, reeling as the truths of the universe slowly left her brain, and she forgot them as quickly as she learned them.

Once the goddess was finished with Daphne, she spoke again, " _I have found you worthy of my blessing. This binding will last from now until this planet ceases to exist._ " She clapped her hands and disappeared in a flash.

For a long moment, the three of them knelt before the headstone, unable to comprehend what had just taken place.

Tom groaned, suddenly, and began to strip out of his clothes. His actions woke Hermione and Daphne from their trance. All it took was one traded glance between the women and they fell on Tom, taking the pleasure the goddess had bestowed in them.

He seemed to have been lent some strength because before much foreplay could take place, he settled Hermione on his lap, impaling her on his cock. She cried out as she began to ride him. Daphne and Hermione met in the middle in a feverish kiss. Hermione had her hands buried in Daphne's hair as Daphne dropped her hands to Hermione's breasts, cupping them and thumbing her nipples. Tom's hands were tight on Hermione's waist, helping her to move.

Tom flexed his hips, grinding up into Hermione, and she broke her kiss with Daphne with a cry as ecstasy flowed through her body. She arched her back and came harder than she ever had before. She shuddered as she came down and slid off of Tom. Daphne took her place, scrambling to mount Tom's cock. Hermione laid her head on Tom's chest, he curled one arm around her and kissed her. The taste of both Daphne and Tom would never get old, Hermione thought as she kissed him back lazily.

The moment Daphne and Tom both came a bright green light burst from the centre of the standing stones, travelling across the land in a shockwave as the newly-bonded triad relaxed on the cool grass beneath them.

* * *

The power boost after the ritual was unexpected. Hermione found she didn't even need her wand for most spells. It had been almost a full month since they became a bonded triad and more often than not, Hermione found herself performing magic instinctively, without uttering a spell or waving her wand. She would think about making a cup of tea and suddenly there would be one in her hand, steaming hot. Daphne and Tom experienced similar effects, something Hermione thought would come in handy. The small two-bedroom flat that she shared with Daphne was entirely too tiny for the three of them. They were going to have to move soon.

Tom had been spending less and less time with his friends, which Hermione and Daphne hoped meant that the triad bond was working to pull him away from them.

"Think the "followers" will be taking care of themselves?" Daphne asked one morning after Tom left for work.

"I hope so," Hermione hummed. "And if not, I'm sure we can think of many, many ways to keep Tom busy."

"I love your devious, wicked, little mind," Daphne said, pressing a quick kiss to Hermione's lips.

* * *

"I got it!" Tom shouted later that night as he strode through the door of the flat.

"Got what?" Hermione asked, looking up from the research she was doing.

"The Gaunt seat," Tom smirked.

"On the Wizengamot?" Daphne asked, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a tea towel.

"Do you know of another Gaunt seat?" Tom asked derisively. "Of course, on the Wizengamot. I cannot believe they gave it to me, but they did."

"Had you asked before now?" Hermione asked.

"Of course! The moment I figured out I was a Gaunt, I went to the Ministry to apply for the seat. It was empty, nobody had sat in it in over fifty years, and they laughed at me. Can you believe that? They _laughed_ at me!" Tom settled on the middle of the couch, spreading his arms across the back of it. Daphne and Hermione joined him on either side, and Tom draped his arms around their shoulders.

"But not today," Daphne said.

"Not today," Tom grinned. "Today when I walked in, they either knew about the triad bonding, or they sensed the increased power because it was all "Right away, sir" and "Follow me, sir." Until I spoke with the Chief Warlock. I told him what I was after, and he agreed immediately. Owled the Ministry tailor then and there to have me fitted for a Wizengamot robe."

"Wow," Hermione replied. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "We should celebrate!"

"I'm always up for a celebration with you," Tom murmured, pressing his lips to hers.

"Not that kind of celebration," Daphne laughed, pulling the two of them apart. "I have something else in mind."

Hermione frowned at Daphne—she had no idea what the witch had up her sleeve.

"Grab on," Daphne said, holding her hands out to both Tom and Hermione. She stood, and they followed suit. In a great sucking sensation, Daphne apparated them out of their flat and to a country road.

"Warn me next time," Hermione complained, applying a warming charm as the bitter March wind swept through her.

"Why are we here?" Tom snapped.

"I bought it!" Daphne said, bouncing on her heels.

Hermione looked up to see what exactly it was Daphne had bought and found a large manor house at the end of a long lane. The gate before them had a stylized _R_ on it, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that this was the old Riddle Manor house.

"Why?" Tom nearly growled.

"For us!" Daphne said. "I figured we could fully _wizard-ize_ it. Get it on the Floo network and everything. It's much bigger than that itsy-bitsy flat we're all crammed into now."

Hermione watched Tom carefully as a range of emotions passed across his face. "It's ours, right now?"

Daphne nodded. "Come on." She waved her hand, and the gate opened. She led them through and down the lane.

The house was cold and had an air of neglect about it as if humans hadn't lived in it for several years. If Hermione thought back to Tom's timeline a bit harder, she probably could have pinpointed the exact amount of years it had been, but she decided not to do that.

Tom walked through the rooms silently, and Hermione worried he was angry about the gift. She glanced at Daphne, but she seemed oblivious to Tom's mood as she nattered on about various rooms. When they arrived at the largest bedroom on the first floor, the master bedroom, clearly—Tom's cool finally snapped.

He pushed Daphne back into the wall. "Shut up," he growled and kissed her fiercely. It wasn't at all the reaction Hermione had thought was coming. He stripped Daphne quickly as Hermione helped him out of his robes. Within a few frenzied moments, he had impaled Daphne on his cock, her back against the wall and her limbs wrapped around him.

"Fuck, Tom!" Daphne gasped as he began driving into her.

With one hand on Daphne's hip, he used the other to tangle in Hermione's hair, pulling her close and whispered against her lips. "Did you know about her plan to buy this hovel?"

"We discussed it," Hermione admitted, "but I didn't know she'd already purchased it."

"We'll discuss your punishment later," Tom growled, pressing a brutal kiss to Hermione's mouth. It tasted of delicious promises to come, and Hermione found herself growing increasingly wet.

"Touch her," Tom demanded of Hermione, his fist still tangled in her hair at the back of her head. Hermione reached between the two writhing bodies to tweak Daphne's nipples. Daphne removed her arm from Tom and slung it around Hermione's shoulders to give her more room. Tom directed her head to Daphne's chest, pausing in his ministrations for a moment. "Suck it," he directed, and Hermione put her lips around Daphne's nipple, sucking hard, just the way Daphne liked best.

Daphne cried out, her head hitting the wall behind her as Tom began hammering away again. The soft flesh in Hermione's mouth bounced, but she didn't dare let go. Not with the way Tom's fist tightened in her hair as both of her partners reached their climax.

Slowly, Daphne slid her legs down from Tom's hips, leaning against the wall and panting hard. Tom wasn't done with them, though. He pushed Hermione against the wall and sank to his knees. Wrenching her robes out of the way, he dove face-first into her cunt and began licking her with abandon. Hermione cried out and lifted one leg over Tom's shoulder, gripping his head with her hands as he ate at her without ceasing. When Daphne attempted to collapse next to Tom on the floor, he pulled away from Hermione long enough to glare at her.

"Undress her," he told Daphne and went back to Hermione's quim. Hermione writhed, but despite how turned on she was, she feared she wasn't going to be able to come without something pounding away into her.

"Tom, please," Hermione begged as Daphne pulled the last of Hermione's clothes from her.

Tom grinned nastily and stood, turning Hermione around until her front was pressed against the wall. He bent his knees and slid neatly inside her, pressing her so hard into the wall it was almost painful, but it also felt so fucking good.

"I don't like surprises," Tom hissed as he pumped away, each thrust harder than the last, sending Hermione's hip bones into the chair rail, over and over again. "Don't let it happen again," he grunted. Hermione couldn't tell, but she thought she heard Tom and Daphne kissing behind her and the idea of them kissing languidly while Tom fucked her so brutally sent her over the edge with a shout.

* * *

It didn't take long to get the Riddle Manor house in order as a wizarding home. As a member of the Wizengamot, Tom was expected to host events for his colleagues and other politicians within the Ministry machine.

For the next century or so, the Riddle Triad was considered the crème de la crème of wizarding society. They held the best parties and galas. Everyone in wizarding Britain vied for their attention and approval. Daphne was particularly well known in the fashion circles, and her ensembles often became mass-produced just a few weeks after she wore them.

When a new law was being discussed, Hermione's opinion was the one everyone wanted to have. It embarrassed Hermione at first, but after a while, she grew into her new role. And she was as happy as Tom and Daphne were when Tom was elected as Minister for Magic in the late 1970s.

And if she followed the Potter and Weasley families a little too closely, well, Daphne was always there to cover for her.

 _ **~Fin~**_


End file.
